Unlucky
by VivaEdina
Summary: Tragedy strikes & Mai must make her own way in Tokyo's red light district. Tormented by marathon night terrors & a psychic stalker, Mai & her Davis twin companion must acknowledge how much they will sacrifice in the name of love, friendship & duty.
1. Author's Note

_Unlucky_

_Ghost Hunt_ belongs to Fuyumi Ono.

SUMMARY

When tragedy strikes and the SPR crew is nowhere to be found, Mai learns to make her own way in Tokyo's red light district. Maintaining a cheerful countenance proves difficult as Mai is tormented by marathon night terrors and a psychic stalker, but companionship arrives from a most unexpected quarter. As the true intentions of her psychic stalker become evident, Mai and her Davis twin companion are forced to acknowledge just how much they are willing to sacrifice in the name of love, friendship and duty.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I hope you enjoy reading _Unlucky_. It has been a pleasure and a challenge to complete. I'd like to thank the readers and reviewers who inspired me to redraft _Unlucky Lady _and _Unlucky Secrets_. I hope you like this new story as much as you liked the old one.

Most importantly I couldn't have finished it off without the keen eyes of my beta team: Calkat, Chibi-Kari, Ariana Taniyama, GilShalos, and Friggy Esquire. Thank you so, so much.

Happy reading to all and thank you in advance for your reviews,

Best regards,

VivaEdina


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Flames licked the stone walls, converting the dirt-floor basement into an oven. Black plumes of smoke pressed lower as a man in a blue jacket dragged himself up the stairway. Blood dripped down his face—the source buried deep in his gold-brown hair. It was useless. He couldn't breathe. He could barely move._

_He would not escape the blaze—not without some otherworldly intervention._

_Mai watched from the top of the stairs. She curled her toes around the rough stone step and shivered in her pyjamas. Trapped in a marathon night terror for the 162__nd__ day in a row, she cried for another tortured soul._


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

No good would come from crying. Nor from screaming. Nor from announcing to the dispersing crowd that the situation was _not fair_. And so Mai curled her bare toes around the street curb and gritted back her tears.

The night reeked of wet kindling, singed hair and melted plastic. Across the flooded street, Mai's former residence smouldered in a 4-metre high heap. Wind crept between the surrounding buildings and coaxed the smoke into a rolling boil. Fire engines flanked the scene like two dozing guard dogs.

The spectators and media had moved on as soon as the fire fighters had subdued the blaze. Did a burned down block of rabbit-warren flats even warrant a two-second news bulletin before the weather?

Her neighbours—former neighbours—hobnobbed with the few remaining firemen. No. With the heels of her hands, Mai scrubbed grime from her eyes. The firemen were hobnobbing. Her former neighbours were conducting business as usual. Not for the first time, it occurred to Mai that prostitutes must have nerves of steel. Or hefty supplies of heroin. Probably both.

'Your home?'

Home? Homes were happy places where people felt safe. She'd never felt safe in that squalled hole. The walls, floors and ceilings were so thin that she'd been positive that—whether it was during sex or brawling—her neighbours would crash through into her world and strip away the last of her dignity. Charred hair crumbled as Mai passed a tremulous hand through her fringe. She hated being right.

'I said, was that your home?'

SPR was closed. She hadn't had a home in six months. Naru and Gene had left her.

A cigarette butt skittered across the pavement to sizzle not five centimetres from Mai's bare foot.

Beneath her ratty pyjama bottoms, Mai's knees trembled. She knotted her hands in the hem of her thin t-shirt. She hated to stretch the shirt out—it was a gift from Bou-san for her 18th birthday and she treasured it—but she needed strength. The fluttering in her gut was threatening to make a mess all over the sidewalk.

'_You.' _The voice came from behind her. Sharp and with a note of accusation. Mai glanced back and to the right. A man stood half in the shadows of an alley. _'I asked if you lived there_.'

He was husky and tall. Taller, perhaps, than even Lin-san. He wore a fedora that cast shadows deep enough to obscure his expression, but his pose was outlined clearly. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his trench coat.

Did he have a gun or a knife? A rope or a gag? Mugged countless times, she'd learned the hard way to never trust someone who doesn't willingly show you his hands.

Water sloshed around her ankles as she turned and edged backward into the flooded street. If she moved further into the illuminated area someone might notice her. Noticing didn't mean that they would help, but if Bou-san or Ayako came investigating maybe someone might remember.

Something to Mai's left caught the man's attention. Perhaps he had an accomplice.

A glance to her left showed nothing. An empty street.

A shiver snaked up her back.

The man continued to stare at that same spot before giving a single jerked nod and shifting his attention back to Mai. 'Come with me.' He held out one hand, his other still thrust into his pocket, and he shuffled zombie-like out of the shadows.

Mai shook her head. Shifting back another step, gravel cut into her feet. She twisted around to call out to the firemen, but they were already getting into their fire engines. Even the prostitutes had moved on.

Stumbling forward Mai waved her arms at the closest fire engine. Air grated her smoke-raw throat as she sucked in a breath. 'Stop!' The scream shattered inside her mouth and choked over her lips.

'There's no need for that.'

The tall man caught her arm. His fingers caged her wrist. He forced her elbow to bend and pinned her hand against the middle of her spine. It only took a nudge to the back of one knee to crumble Mai to the flooded street.

**...**

Mai's bare feet, her sodden pyjamas, the smell of her burnt hair—any one of these things should have drawn attention in a bustling all-night diner. So why did it seem like she could be sitting there topless and not a single person would notice? Perhaps it had something to do with the greasy spoon's patrons—sweaty, smeared, strung out, drunk and getting drunker.

'Honey cakes.'

Mai flinched, and the tall man quirked an eyebrow as he took off his fedora.

A bible sat on the dirty Formica table that separated them. Father Endo claimed to be a clergyman. Beneath his trench coat, he wore a black shirt with a tab collar. It seemed like proof enough of his profession, but the way he had stopped her in the street didn't seem to add up . In fact, his apprehension of her had felt like something out of a reality cop show. Her entire arm and shoulder ached. Bruises already ringed her wrist.

'Perhaps a muffin.' Father Endo spoke without moving his jaw.

Mai shook her head. 'The coffee will be fine. Thank you.'

'I'm sorry if I frightened you. You looked like you were going to run away.'

If only she'd been so lucky. 'No—I...' Because the man never seemed to blink, Mai couldn't look him in the eyes. Concentrating on his overly plump top lip, she said: 'I'm still not sure why you—what you want.'

He rolled his top lip to expose a mouth of wide-spaced teeth. 'I suppose you aren't used to being picked up on the street and brought to a diner.' Father Endo's eyes remained expressionless has he appraised her body. 'You're a Gothic Lolita-type.'

Not quite sure if he meant his comment as a question, Mai glanced down at her worn t-shirt with the slogan _I see dead people_. Bou-san had given it to her as a talisman against her bad dreams. In the months since Naru and Gene had left, her dreams had become steadily more disturbing until she was lucky if she got three or four hours of uninterrupted rest. The shirt was supposed to make her smile before going to bed each night. Now it reeked of smoke. Mai crossed her arms tighter around her chest. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out what Father Endo wanted.

His stillness resonated with energy—like an angel shark buried beneath the sand as it tracked its prey. 'Are you satisfied with your life?'

Mai furrowed her brow. Was that supposed to be a trick question? What part of having your flat burn down could equate _satisfaction_?

Father Endo pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger in a thoughtful pose. 'In my line of work, I see girls like you all the time. Girls that make bad decisions. I had a sister that made bad decisions, too.' Father Endo's gaze slid to the side and fixed on the empty air. Emotions flickered across his face—almost like he was savouring a memory—but when he looked back at Mai his eyes were as flat as ever. 'In the end, there was little I could do to save her. Let me help you.'

'I'm not sure I understand.'

'You can be honest with me.' As he spoke, he used his index finger to sketch small imaginary rectangles on the table. 'You have to realise that it was your choices that brought you here.' He slashed two vertical lines through the closest rectangle. 'You're part of a plague—no matter how pretty your body is. No matter how much men are willing to pay you for it.'

Oh Kami, he thought she was a prostitute.

What could she say? Considering where she'd lived, it wasn't too outrageous of an assumption. And she did work in a clothing-optional nightclub—though she opted to keep clothed. Heck, she was a high school dropout! _Some people_ might measure a person's worth by their education, but Mai knew the truth: knowledge doesn't fill an empty stomach. That said, she wasn't devoid of morals. For her, prostitution would never be an option. And yet mortifying as it was, she could easily see how Father Endo had jumped to the wrong conclusion.

She was about to set him straight when he leaned across the table. 'There is only one way to free yourself. To lend yourself to a greater purpose and be cleansed.'

'Cleansed?' She really was an idiot. Naru would have figured this guy out in a matter of seconds, but it had taken her nearly forty-five minutes to realise that Father Endo wasn't some well-meaning priest like John. Father Endo was a religious fanatic. She was such an idiot. Next he was going to offer to save her soul—probably through the practice of sex magick.

Torn between revulsion and laughter, Mai hid her face in her hands. She'd learned all about sex magick while helping pack up the SPR library. All she'd wanted was to organise the books by topic and author. She'd never heard of Aleister Crowley, and her English reading skills were next to nil—so naturally she'd turned to the nearest English speaker for assistance. _John. _She'd asked a priest about sex magick texts! Of course _it was all Naru's fault_. What kind of person owns books like that? John had just about keeled over with mortification. _And then_ Madoka felt obligated to orally translate several highly descriptive poems while Ayako acted out the 'rituals' with the couch cushions. Of course Bou-san couldn't help but point out the technical accuracy that the 'virginal' shrine priestess seemed to possess, and soon after the task of packing up the library had devolved into a wrestling match. And that's how Mai had learned all about sex magick.

How did she get herself into these situations? Everyone at SPR would have a field day if they found out about this. Not that they talked all that often anymore….

Mai sighed, exhausted and feeling ridiculous. 'Sir, I'm sorry but you are mistaken. I'm not what you think I am.'

'Lost? Desperate? Sorrowful? Friendless? Homeless?'

That wasn't fair. She'd just lost her home in a fire, and she was missing SPR like someone had torn out her heart. Well, maybe not her heart. She missed them like someone had torn out one of her lungs. She could breathe. She could survive—but not comfortably. Not like a normal person. Father Endo was playing on emotions she'd rather keep buried deep.

'I'm not a prostitute,' she said.

'Wow. That's not something I hear every day!' A waitress in bunny cosplay plonked down Father Endo's tea and Mai's espresso on the table. 'Get you anything else?'

Mai shook her head, but Father Endo engaged the waitress's breasts in a conversation about gluten-free muffins.

Reaching for her drink, Mai caught a whiff of Father Endo's Earl Grey tea. The smell made her stomach lurch. Naru. She could almost hear his voice: _First you let your building burn down, and now you've gone to a cosplay café with a pervert—you invite danger. Trouble. You're too much trouble._ Ringing Naru to ask for help was out of the question. Even if he didn't chastise her, what could he do from England?

Mai gulped down her double espresso, ignoring how the burning liquid flayed her taste buds. Enough was enough. She couldn't spend the entire night in a staring match with this freakish man. This wasn't some SPR case. No one was coming to her rescue. Was Father Endo scarier than Mimi the possessed doll? Than Urado? Than the zombies? Probably not. Mai sat up straight. 'Look, I'm sorry but you've made a really big mistake. I'm sure you meant well.' She hoped he'd meant well. 'But if you want to help me, you'll just lend me your mobile phone.'

Father Endo patted the waitress on the hand, and she hurried away. 'What were you saying? You want to borrow my phone? Who would you ring? Your… patron?'

Mai's espresso cup clattered harshly against the table. 'My brother.'

Father Endo narrowed his eyes and lifted an eyebrow.

'I want to ring my older brother,' Mai said with more conviction. It wasn't a lie. Bou-san _was like_ her older brother.

'You think _your brother_ will help you?'

'I know he will.' Mai put a hand to her frizzed hair. 'I appreciate the coffee and the chat, but what I need is to ring Bou… Houshou, my brother.'

'Let's make a deal,' Father Endo said. 'If _your brother_ does not help you, you will allow me.'

Mai's heart thundered in her chest, but she managed to say, 'Okay.'

Father Endo's mouth quirked. His left hand seemed to move of its own accord, sliding a mobile phone toward the centre of the table. For a long moment he kept his hand cupped over the mobile. 'We have a contract?'

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Mai nodded.

Father Endo slowly lifted his hand from the mobile.

Mai waited until Father Endo had folded his hands together before reaching out to take the mobile. It had a lot more buttons than a normal mobile, but she figured it must work kind of the same. Naru'd never had problems ringing people from his BlackBerry. Mai punched in Bou-san's mobile number and averted her eyes from Father Endo as the phone rang out for ages.

'You've reached Takigawa Houshou. I can't take your call—' The voicemail message crackled, and Bou-san yelped. Ayako's voice came through clearly. _'Shut that off! The plane's about to leave! Do you want to make us crash?' _Bou-san chuckled before the message continued, 'Anyway, leave me a message.'

Was it really Thursday? Mai scratched her temple. Bou-san and Ayako were off to Australia for a month. It was just for work, a favour for John, Ayako had insisted—but in the past few months those two had been getting on unexpectedly well. Sure they still argued, but they always seemed to be watching each other when the other wasn't looking. They were definitely embroiled in a sandbox flirtation.

Of course John was in Australia too, and Yasuhara had started a semester at Harvard. Michiru's family didn't approve of Mai leaving school so the girls were forbidden to see each other. As for Keiko, both her parents had lost their jobs in the bad economy, and to make matters worse, they were going through a nasty divorce. Mai couldn't add herself to their problems.

She could leave a message and pretend that she was talking to Bou-san, but then where would she go? She did validly need somewhere to stay—hopefully somewhere far far away from Father Endo. The only other person she could ask was Masako.

Mai glanced across the table.

Father Endo smirked triumphantly and held out his hand for the mobile.

Scooting to the edge of the bench to ensure a fast get away, Mai quickly entered Masako's number into the phone. She supposed playing Naru's messenger to the SPR irregulars had done something good—she'd managed to memorise all their contact details.

Mai counted her heartbeats as the number continued to ring out. She and Masako hadn't spoken since Naru left. Perhaps Masako blamed Mai. Perhaps she wasn't picking up out of spite. That would be just like her. Holding a grudge—

The ringing cut out. 'Hello? Masako?' Mai asked, gasping with relief.

'I'm sorry. Hara-sama is currently touring in America,' the Hara's elderly housekeeper said. 'Can I take a message?'

What good would a message do? Mai wanted to scream. But she had to keep calm. If she messed this up… .

Father Endo leaned forward as though trying to hear the other half of the conversation. Already straining away from him, Mai curled herself around the phone.

'Masako, it's Mai.' Mai tried to lighten her tone and make it sound realistic. 'Could you pass the phone to Nii-san? Hi, Nii-san. There was a fire at my flat, and I was hoping that I could stay with you for a little while.'

The housekeeper huffed. 'I told you. Hara-sama is in America.'

Mai forced a smile and sat up a little straighter. 'So I can stay?' she continued, praying that Father Endo couldn't hear the outrage in the elderly woman's voice.

'Most certainly not. And do not ring again!' The line went dead.

Mai carefully placed the mobile back in the centre of the table. 'Thank you,' she said, hoping Father Endo took her trembling smile and welling eyes as an expression of relief. 'My brother didn't pick up, but his girlfriend, Masako, did—so I'll be staying with them.' She stood, and the foil blanket crackled as she pulled it tightly around her shoulder. 'You've been very kind, but I should really go.'

The table squealed against the floor as Father Endo shot to his feet. 'Liar,' he seethed, shoving his hand deep into his trench coat pocket.

Mai's heart dropped into her stomach. 'I'll just be on my way,' she whispered, stumbling backward on locked knees.

Father Endo yanked out his wallet and fumbled with cash for the cheque. His relatively benign actions shocked Mai's legs loose. Without looking back, she slipped through the crowd, out of the diner and across the street. She'd already caught the attention of an approaching taxi before Father Endo even appeared in the diner's doorway.

Mai stretched out her arm even further, fidgeting with desperation. Until the last moment, she was sure the taxi would speed away when her bare feet became evident. She scrambled inside the car before it had come to a complete stop.

'Go,' Mai gasped, but Father Endo wrenched the car door open fully. She made a grab for the door handle, but he ducked his head inside.

'We have a contract,' he said.

'No!' Mai ploughed her foot into his stomach. She expected her heel to sink into flabby flesh, but her foot ached from smashing against hard muscle. Reeling her knees into her chest, she lashed out again but this time using both feet and bracing herself. Father Endo grunted with the impact, and his hand slipped from the door. 'Driver, go! Just go!' The driver argued, but Mai continued to yell until the taxi peeled away from the curb. Fumbling for the handle, she slammed the door shut.

'Thank you,' Mai said, drawing her knees up and resting her forehead on them. She shivered and pulled the foil blanket closer. Why did she always end up in these kinds of situations? Perhaps her t-shirt didn't really read _I see dead people_. Perhaps Bou-san had lied. Perhaps it read _Prime Victim._

'Where to, miss?' the driver asked.

Naru was right. She was nothing but trouble. She wasn't given to bouts of self-pity, but trapped in a taxi with no money and no place to go, there was nothing stopping her from falling into dark thoughts. No matter how hard she tried, how hard she worked, how hard she strived to not be a burden, she always managed to screw things up. She deserved to be alone.

'Miss? I need a destination. Where do you wish to go?'

'Shibuya Psychic Research Center.' Mai hugged her knees tight and whispered the address.

It was a stupid idea. Why did she want to go to a shutdown office? But where else could she go? She couldn't go to the nightclub where she worked. Gin Knockerscould offer no refuge because if the club owner, Fujiwara, found out Mai's situation—well let's just say that clothing would cease to be an optional part of her employment, and she'd find herself spread-eagled on her back, or whatever was the preferred position for private _hostesses_.

Scrubbing and mopping floors after working twelve-hour shifts on her feet—in stacked heels—suited Mai just fine. Of course she'd go back to making tea and putting up with Naru's attitude in a heartbeat….

'That's never going to happen. Stop being an idiot, Idiot!' Mai whispered beneath her breath like a mantra. A very very familiar mantra. 'Things could be worse. So much worse.' It wasn't so bad cleaning floors and serving drinks and wearing trousers so tight that they might as well have been painted on.

Lycra-meets-pleather trousers that she no longer owned. The fire had destroyed everything.

Losing her photos was the worst part of this. Her only photos of her mom and dad, and the SPR Christmas group picture in which Mai swore Naru wanted to smile. And the photo Naru'd given her—the one of Gene and him. Everything else could be replaced, but not those precious mementos. Mai pressed the heels of her palms into the hollows of her eyes.

'We're here, miss.'

Electricity pulsed through her as she realised that the taxi had stopped. Mai scooted along the backseat and stared up at the looming building.

Something white glinted in the darkened window that had once been Naru's office.

Mai's hands juddered, and she struggled to draw a breath. Managing to wrap her fingers around the handle, she yanked repeatedly but the taxi door would not budge.

'Miss,' the driver said.

Mai rammed her shoulder against the door, but her panicked state meant that the collision was ill-aimed and she cracked her head against the glass. The window fogged with her gasp of pain.

'Miss!'

Mai rattled the handle and pawed the glass until she could see the SPR building again. 'Someone's there. Let me out….'

'Miss, there's no one here. This place is closed.' All four streetlamps in front of SPR were broken, and the building threw shadows longer and more ominous than any haunted mansion. Graffiti-covered construction fences blocked off the street-level café. 'Closed for good, by the looks of things.'

'Someone's at the window.'

'Pigeons.'

'No.'

'Just pigeons, miss.'

Mai smeared the fog off the glass again and stared up at Naru's office. A flustered bird roosted on the windowsill, its wings trembling as though it were snared in a night terror. Could she get more stupid? More pathetic? Of course Naru wasn't up there.

'Is there anywhere else that I can take you?' the driver asked.

'No.'

'I don't suppose you have any cash in those pyjamas you're wearing?'

'No.'

'That man—'

'_No_.'

'I didn't think so.' The driver sighed and adjusted the rear view mirror so that he could look at her properly. 'I hope you won't take offence, but… you smell like you've been in a fire. There was a blaze this evening. I heard about it on the radio. A tenement….'

'Yes.' Mai drew a few strands of hair to her nose and sniffed. She coughed at the chemical stink of burnt synthetic fabric. She'd been in bed when the fiery beam collapsed through her wall and torched her duvet. Made of fire-retardant material? She should sue.

Sitting upright, Mai chafed her hands against her pyjama bottoms. 'I'm sorry.'

'I don't suppose it's your fault,' the driver said, scrubbing at his face. 'Do you go to school—'

'No.'

'Or work somewhere?'

'I can't go there. I guess… I guess homeless people live in Shibuya Station….'

'The station doesn't open until 5am, and I can't just drop a kid like you there. What about Saint Giles'?' the driver asked. 'It's a shelter not far from here.'

'A shelter?'

'Father Marcus, the priest that runs it, is a nice guy,' the driver said, and Mai shuttered at the thought of interacting with another man in a tag collar. 'I don't think it's the kind of place that you stay in for long, but they'll probably have coffee or tea and maybe even some shoes.'

Honestly, where else could she go? Mai nodded. A shelter sounded better than the station. Better than moving into a cardboard village. The taxi looped around, leaving SPR and its resident pigeons in the distance. An old building and faded memories couldn't help her. She'd never _needed_ help before—and maybe she didn't need it now. Not maybe. She could fix this situation on her own. What had she really lost in the fire? Clothing, a month's rent—which she'd planned to pay in the morning, two days' worth of tips, a bag of rice and some photographs. All things considered, losing everything when she had nothing merely reconfirmed that she had nothing to lose.


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Dignity is a funny thing. You keep telling yourself you've hit rock bottom only to have the carpet swept from beneath your feet. Carpet that you didn't even realise you were standing on.

Signing up to stay at a shelter should have been easy. Mai'd been in a fire. She was an orphan. She needed help. Why did she have to fill out a dozen different forms in triplicate? Not to mention the entrance interview. Sister Mara had all but strip-searched her for drugs.

There was no sign of the nice priest that the taxi driver had mentioned.

It was midday before they admitted Mai to Saint Giles.

In the corridor beyond the interview cells, a dower matron scowled from behind a clipboard. 'The futons are full.' She sucked her teeth while glancing down at Mai's bare feet. 'Put your shoes on.'

'I don't have any. You see, there was a fire—'

The woman scribbled something on her clipboard. 'Wait in the canteen.'

'But…' What the heck was with these people? Weren't they there to help her? What had she done to piss everyone off?

Someone shoved her from behind, saying: 'Out of the way, you stupid bitch!'

Mai stumbled against the cinderblock wall and then glued herself to it as the strung out woman who had shoved her proceeded to vomit all over the dower matron's clipboard and starchy grey uniform. The matron grimaced but remained calm—as though being vomited upon was just part of a day's work.

Maybe the shelter staff's harsh and distrustful attitude had more to do with their typical 'guests' and less to do with Mai herself. If the people you are trying to help lie to you, go out and get drunk and do drugs, and then they come back and vomit all over you on a regular basis—well than Mai supposed Saint Giles' staff probably had earned their jaded demeanours.

'Do you need help?' Mai asked the matron, but the woman swatted her away like a fly.

The shelter's canteen wasn't terribly busy and so Mai settled into a moulded-plastic chair and tried to keep cheerful by imagining all the awful comments that Naru would make about the place. The tea? _Steeped soil_. The ventilation? _Venting inward the stench of motor oil and tempura_. The furniture? _Stolen from a preschool_. The other 'guests'? _Lunatics with no taste buds (as they appeared to be guzzling down the 'tea')._

Exhaustion weighed heavy on her shoulders, and she put her head down on the cool table. Mai was out cold for several hours despite the uncomfortable chair and her troubled sleep.

Commencing months ago, her dreams took the form of violent, unrelated scenes that were strung together like grainy, badly edited frames on the local TV news. They occurred in rapid fire, with sounds and settings often overlapping, and Mai always woke in a sweat—as though she'd run a marathon through a hundred perverted minds. That was why she thought of them as _marathon night terrors_. The only times she felt she had some control were during the reoccurring scenes, such as the rioting art gallery. Through trial and error, she'd figured out that she could escape that particular scene by stepping into the exhibition's artwork. Usually she did not have an escape route, and to her great frustration, Mai now totally identified with poor Alice during her nightmare in Wonderland.

That afternoon in the Saint Giles canteen, the terrors loosened their grasp on Mai just as a corpse latched onto her shoulder—unfortunately, Mai lashed out and smacked a very real hand away.

Mai snapped her eyes open and stared at a shocked girl wearing a high school uniform. Scrambling to her feet, Mai bowed deeply. 'Please forgive me.'

The girl bowed as well. 'No, forgive me. I'm sorry to have startled you, Taniyama-san. I'm Atari Risa. I volunteer here at Saint Giles.' She smiled and put on a good show of concern. She reminded Mai of Michiru and Keiko. Innocent and excitable. She obviously had yet to be vomited upon by a 'guest'.

'I'm sorry, Atari-san, but is there a place I can bathe?' Mai asked, interrupting the girl's raving commentary about a charity auction in which Saint Giles was taking part.

The girl blinked her giant, childlike eyes. 'Y-yes,' she stammered before launching into a cheerful description of the western-style shower facilities and clothing donation box that Saint Giles provided for their 'guests'.

As it turned out, everything in the clothing donation box smelled of mothballs, talcum powder and vermin and was either made out of flannel or spandex. Never before in her life had Mai yearned for Gin Knockers' uniform skin-tight trousers.

With a belt-skirt, a pair of loafers and fishnet tights in hand, she crept into the bowels of Saint Giles to find the shower facilities. Lined with padlocked doors, the hallway took several strange twists before it broke off into the men's and the women's shower rooms.

The tiled cubicles were orange with mould and wads of hair protruded from the drains. Luckily a gargantuan spider stalked Mai from the ceiling and half distracted her from thoughts of communicable diseases. Plantar warts. Athlete's foot. Ringworms.

...

Slapping herself on both cheeks, Mai tried her best to put on her Gin Knockers game face. She had to keep cheerful. Fujiwara could never find out about her situation.

'Where's your uniform?' Saito Aoi asked, flicking her cigarette into the alleyway. She latched onto Mai's arm and dragged the younger girl into the light of Gin Knockers' backdoor. 'Hate the shoes, love the stockings, adore the skirt, your shirt reeks of smoke… and you're not wearing a scrap of makeup, and is your hair lopsided and burnt?'

Forcing a smile, Mai ran her fingers through her hair, which was exactly as Aoi described. 'Would you believe me if I told you that I burned my hair along with my makeup and my uniform and my apron?'

'Inside.' Aoi yanked open the backdoor. 'You are a pain in my ass. Let's fix you up before Fujiwara gets back.'

Mai sighed with relief. 'He's not here.'

'Lucky, eh?' She shoved Mai toward a stool. 'I've got to have something in here….' She muttered incoherently while she rifled through her oversized tote bag, pulling out everything from a pair of thongs to a curling iron.

Saito Aoi fit into Gin Knockers as though she were part of the furniture. Her knee-high boots were made of the exact same black-purple vinyl that covered the nightclub's booths. Her luminous green eye shadow matched the wallpaper, and her teeth were as crooked as the management. She headed the bar staff, wouldn't have anything to do with Fujiwara's_ hostess_ service, and was the most blunt person for whom Mai'd ever worked. Worse than Naru—and perhaps that was why Mai couldn't bring herself to _hate_ Aoi. The woman always wore black, constantly drank tea and never said _thank you_.

'Scrub your face with this.' A damp tissue slapped against Mai's forehead. 'Do you trust me?' Mai scrubbed at her nose and glanced up at Aoi. The woman flicked open a switchblade. 'Tough.'

Aoi grasped a clump of Mai's hair and sawed it off.

Ten minutes later Aoi switched off the electric shaver and roughed a hand through Mai's hair as though she were enthusiastically petting a dog. 'It's the same cut that I gave my brother.'

'You gave me a boy's haircut?' Mai asked, staring down at the piles of auburn locks that littered the floor.

Aoi whacked Mai's head back and sprayed it with something foul. She swept the inch-long fringe to the side and nodded with artistic satisfaction. 'Don't worry. You're boobs balance it out. Or they will...' The woman held up a hot pink, pleather tube top. 'Put that on, and you can use Kiki's apron.'

'Won't Kiki need it?' Mai asked. Kiki was a flighty but well-liked barmaid.

'She's one of Fujiwara's now,' Aoi sneered. 'I look after you girls, and what thanks do I get? Kiki gives me no notice, and you show up like some kind of refugee.'

So Kiki was a hostess now. Mai bit her lip. She couldn't image why Kiki would do something like that. Sure, she'd never struck Mai as the brightest bulb in the box, but still….

Having struggled into the tube top locker-room-style, Mai spun on the stool. 'Will she be okay?'

'Shit. Don't start crying now. You've got to keep yourself together, Taniyama. And you've got a lot more important things to worry about than stupid Kiki.' She pinched Mai's chin. 'Listen to me, I don't care how you burnt your hair and lost your makeup—don't you go telling Fujiwara about it. I can't afford to lose more bar staff this week. If he asks where your uniform is, direct him to me. Now get over here and let me see your face.'

Aoi dropped Mai's chin and proceeded to engulf her in a cloud of white powder and a beating of brushes. She felt as though she were being forced through a drive-thru carwash—without the benefits of water and soap.

When Aoi finished, she stood back and assessed Mai as though she were a piece of Dadaist art. 'Well….' Aoi cocked her head. 'It's a look. Make it work.' She handed Mai a pair of stiletto boots. 'Now get out on the floor—you're late for your shift.'

Mai yanked on the boots, zipping them all the way above her knees, before putting on her apron. 'Aoi-san, thank—'

'You're late. Move before I dock your pay,' Aoi said, throwing her tote bag back on the coat rack and heading for the kitchen.

Mai nodded and tottered down the long corridor that led to the front-of-house. She longed to dart into the ladies toilet and see what she looked like, but Aoi had a fickle personality. She could easily go from makeover queen to bloodthirsty boss.

The steel door that separated the front- from back-of-house rumbled with the bass from the dance floor. Cracking open the door, the chill from the air conditioners swept over her body. Gin Knockers had been open for twenty minutes. Only a few customers had made their way past the doormen, ticket office and coat check—and most of them were gathered around the centre bar.

The centre bar staff were already in full swing, mixing drinks faster than humanly possible and beaming as though they couldn't think of anything better than prostrating themselves to the drunken hoards. And though Mai felt incredible respect for the centre bar staff, she thanked her stars that she never had to work with them. She definitely preferred her low-key bar, which was tucked off to the right of the main dance floor and catered to a more sedate crowd.

As Mai settled into her station, her colleagues threw her questioning looks, but everyone had too much to do to stop and chat. Anyway the Gin Knockers staff didn't share the same camaraderie that Mai'd loved about SPR. Shaking off the temptation to sulk, she logged into the till-system before starting her routine station and stock check.

The slow atmosphere was deceptive, and before midnight the club was packed. _DJ Bling-Babe_ worked the turntables, adding random snips of English and warped sirens to the techno music. Occasionally strobes replaced the club's coloured spotlights, and fractions of time dropped away like frames spliced from a film. Fujiwara's hostesses acted as cocktail waitresses for VIPs while the normal crowd had to fight their way to the bars. They were mostly students and good-natured young professionals, and all they wanted was to drink and dance and crack a few jokes.

'You've got new hair,' _Captain-_san shouted across the bar. He was Mai's favourite regular—and he'd been so from the moment she met him. She suspected that he just had one of those likeable faces—the kind of person that, though you've never seen him before, you swear you've exchanged smiles with him a thousand times across a crowded room. The thirty-something-year-old man wore an eye-patch and always managed to look like he was tap-dancing, no matter what kind of music the DJ played.

'Does it look okay?' Mai asked, grabbing a bottle of rum and two tumblers. One tumbler for _Captain_-san and one for his young and beautiful—if vacant looking—boyfriend, whom Mai'd named _Polly_-kun. Shot measurements didn't apply to _Captain_-san's drinks, and the bottle glugged as she poured.

'You'd look good even if you shaved it,' he said. She exchanged the glasses for a wad of money large enough to cover the price of three bottles of bourbon. 'Keep the change.'

Knowing that arguing would only hold up the queue of customers, Mai nodded gratefully and pocketed the money. _Captain_-san and all her other well-tipping customers were the exact reason why Mai continued working at Gin Knockers. Though the hourly wage was ridiculously low and she was treated abysmally, she took home in tips double what any 'respectable' job would pay her, and she needed the money more than ever.

Being eighteen meant that she was no longer eligible for scholarships and the loan company could now hold her accountable for her mother's debts. The medical bills had been astronomical. Mai's stomach knotted at the memory of the first night that her mother's 'loan company' had come banging at her door. The beefy yakuza men made it perfectly clear that Mai had to make the huge monthly payments or they would liquidate her assets—Mai's person being foremost part of those assets. She couldn't ask Ayako or Bou-san for the cash—Ayako worked hard to not be dependent on her parents and Bou-san's band had yet to sign for a record deal; furthermore, she didn't want to drag anyone into her problems. Tips from customers, such as _Captain_-san, made the payments possible—and Mai maintained two white lies with the former-SPR irregulars. First she told them that she worked in a café and she had a cranky boss who did not like friends of staff dropping in. Substitute the word club for café, and it was true, though the guilt ate away at Mai like acid. Second she avoided the topic of school. She'd made it through the last term, and opted not to continue into the exam year. What was the point of revising for an exam on the university track? She'd never be able to afford university.

A group of drunken tourists leaned across Mai's section of the bar. 'Love you long time!' one guy said and then proceeded to chatter on in a language that Mai did not recognise. She ignored him and cracked open several bottles of beer. When he made a grab for her wrist, she smacked him away. The group complained loudly, and the guy reached for Mai again.

'Good evening, gentlemen.' Fujiwara, wearing a pinstriped suit and looking every inch the pimp he was, came to stand next to the drunken group. He assessed the men, from their designer shoes to their blond mop-like hair, and smirked. 'Could I interest you in our VIP service? Kiki-tan!' He snapped his fingers and Kiki slinked out of the shadows. 'Show these gentlemen to a booth in the balcony.'

Kiki's nearly non-existent tube dress—or perhaps it was better to say, the expanse of skin not covered by her nearly non-existent tube dress—drew the crowd away. Mai wouldn't be caught dead wearing something like that.

'This is a new look, Mai.' Mai bit down a shudder at Fujiwara's casual manner. 'Perhaps you'd like to explain where your uniform is?'

Mai licked her lips. 'Ask Saito-san.'

Fujiwara stared at her as though trying to read her mind. Seriously doubting that the man had any psychic ability, Mai affixed her trademark cheerful expression and accepted another generous tip from her customers.

'You better claim all those tips, Mai,' Fujiwara said. 'I don't want the bar staff bankrupting my establishment.'

'Of course I claim my tips!' Thirty-percent of them, to be exact. They all claimed exactly thirty-percent of their tips—that was the house rule—and what sleazy, greedy Fujiwara didn't know wouldn't hurt him. It wasn't stealing.

Mai's stomach lurched.

Perhaps it was stealing, but didn't her situation warrant it? Didn't she _earn_ the money? Mai scrubbed at the tension beneath her eyes.

'Fujiwara, don't you have anything better to do than pester my staff?' Aoi asked, coming around the bar. 'Taniyama-san, hands off your face. You'll ruin your makeup.'

Mai nodded, sucking in a deep breath, and welcomed her next customer. It was only half-past-twelve. By last call, everyone looked alike, and it felt as though hot pokers carpeted the floor.

Mai stumbled as she handed Aoi the last of the empty glasses from her section of the bar. 'Learn to walk in those boots,' Aoi said.

How was she supposed to learn to walk in the boots when they were obviously too small? Her heels felt shredded to bits, and the stinging slipperiness could only be attributed to continued blood loss. Only the thumping of her apron against her thigh—the pockets heavy with the night's tips—kept a cheerful expression on her face.

As the other wait staff changed and headed home, Mai stashed her money and went to the storage closet to retrieve the mop. She never had to vacuum or sweep the club—the barmaids always took care of that while the barmen sorted stock behind the bar—but for a nice lump of cash more, she remained after hours and scrubbed the front of house floors. Not a glamorous job, but Mai could think of worse ways to make ends meet.

Lugging the bucket of hot water and bleach to the empty dance floor, Mai contemplated taking off her boots. The cleaning liquid would sting the open wounds on her feet. Typically she'd change into a tracksuit and a pair of trainers, but that wasn't an option tonight. Before tomorrow she'd have to go through the donations at Saint Giles again and see what other articles of clothing were available. It irked her that she hadn't thought of this before. Mai struggled out of the boots and wrung out the mop.

A pair of house shoes skidded across the floor and stopped centimetres from her bare feet.

'Aoi-san…?'

The older woman took a stool down from the bar and perched on it. 'I'm waiting for someone. Don't let me stop you.'

Mai slipped into the house shoes and returned to mopping. She hummed under her breath—a habit that she'd picked up from her mom—and forcing her exhaustion to the back of her mind, she took her time scrubbing every corner of the club. Do it and do it right. It wasn't a bad motto by which to live. Immense satisfaction could be found in simple proficiency. Cleaning floors, washing dishes, balancing a chequebook, filing bills, blending and steeping and serving tea. Do it and do it right. It had to pay off eventually.

When she finished her task, Mai lugged the bucket to the ladies' toilet and flushed the muddy contents. At the backdoor, Aoi stood waiting with a set of keys and a paper bag. Mai held out the house shoes to her.

'What would I want with those nasty things now? Leave them for tomorrow,' Aoi said.

Mai placed the shoes under the storage shelves. 'Thank you.'

'Hold this while I set the alarm.' Aoi handed her the paper bag. The heavy contents rattled.

The backdoor slammed shut, and deep in the club, the alarm beeped. 'I thought you were waiting for someone?' Mai asked, holding the bag out to Aoi.

'What gave you that idea?' Aoi asked, ignoring Mai's outstretched hand and proceeding out of the alley. Sunrise in the city was blue-black, gold and sickly green. 'Keep the bag, but you better listen to me. If I took in every wounded bird that came pecking at my window—well, let's just say that I'd have myself a zoo. And my building doesn't allow for pets. Am I making myself clear, or has the mixed metaphor confused you, Taniyama-chan?'

'This is your tips. Your tips from tonight,' Mai whispered, staring into the paper bag.

'And a bit more—but this is where my charity ends. Life's a bitch, sweetheart, so fuck her.'

'Excuse me?' Mai squeaked.

Aoi laughed and took a deep pull from her cigarette. 'Cute. You're too cute for your own good. Put that money in the bank, Taniyama-chan, and wipe that stupid expression off your face.'

'Yes!' Mai, clutching the paper bag to her chest, stumbled on the street curb.

Fisting Mai's shirt in one hand, Aoi dragged her out of the path of an approaching taxi. 'Jeez, kid, someone better send you a knight in shining armour fast—because I'm nobody's idea of a fairy godmother.'

**...**

Slumped in his study in Cambridgeshire, a brooding narcissist stared at a faded photograph of two-dozen grubby-faced orphans. A cup of tea sat at the far end of his desk—cold, brackish and untouched.


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Making a bank deposit without official ID proved to be a real hassle. In the end the bank teller allowed Mai to pay in her tips and the money Aoi had gifted her, but she'd have to return in three days' time when the bank manager would be available for consultation. Only after the consultation would they issue her a new bankcard. Though the situation had leeched all her energy, Mai left the bank feeling triumphant. At least now she didn't have to worry about getting mugged.

The second task on Mai's agenda was to buy the cheapest rucksack on the planet—which she found easily at a market stall. And then finally she treated herself to a half-price onigiri from a convenience store.

Upon returning to Saint Giles, Mai was subjected to another interview with Sister Mara. What sort of bar did she work at? What did her job entail? How much money was she carrying on her? How did she expect to keep the other 'guests' from taking that money? When she'd finally satisfied the woman that she had little money and no drugs, she was again directed to the dower matron with the clipboard. It appeared that she had yet to be vomited upon, though the dower matron eyed up Mai as though she expected nothing less.

Again the futons were all occupied. Mai took a few minutes to wash her _I see dead people_ t-shirt in the bathroom sink before settling down in the canteen, this time with a cup of coffee, a pen and a stack of napkins. It wasn't long before wadded napkins littered the table as she attempted to hash out a budget for the next few weeks. The sums kept on coming up differently. _You reap what you sow_. That's what Naru would say. Skipping out on school so often when she had worked for SPR was starting to bite her on the butt. Figuring that the sums weren't too diverse, Mai averaged the numbers together and came up with a reasonable—if potentially challenging—breakdown of her funds.

Even with Aoi's ridiculously generous loan—'loan' because Mai fully planned on paying her back with interest just as soon as she could—it would be nearly a month before Mai could afford to leave Saint Giles. Whether she entered a flat share or got her own place, she'd have to pay key money, realtor fees, and first and second months' rent when she signed the lease. That added up to a whole lot of cash that Mai simply did not have—plus she had to consider the cost of a PASMO card for the subway and her yakuza loan payments. She never doubted that the yakuza would find her; they knew she worked at Gin Knockers.

Satisfied, if not pleased, with her budget plan, Mai fidgeted with frustration The three hours she had remaining before work seemed like a waste of good time, but she doubted the shelter staff would pay her to lend a hand—though the cracked laminate floors sorely needed a decent scrubbing. She slipped her aching feet from her shoes—careful to not touch them to the filthy floor—and perched cross-legged on her chair.

'You're not allowed!' Somewhere out in the hallway, Sister Mara raged. 'That _thing_ isn't allowed inside! _Remove yourself_.'

'Sister Mara, please calm yourself.' Ice water surged through Mai's veins; she recognised the new voice—Father Endo's voice. 'Sir, if you and your… dog… would please come into my office.'

Mai shuddered. Was Saint Giles the place Father Endo had spoken of—the place for cleansing? Would he kick her out of the shelter once he found out she was there? Or would he do something worse? Glancing around the canteen, Mai spotted at least two other women who dressed like the prostitutes in her old neighbourhood. They seemed unscathed. Unbothered. Perhaps things would be okay. Perhaps….

Mai shivered again and curled in against the feeling of dread. What was going to happen to her?

A toothless, moustached crone cackled from the beverage buffet as she dumped a dozen spoonful of sugar into her tea. The matron with the clipboard hurried over to the buffet just in time to have the sweet tea poured down the front of her uniform. The matron's shout and the crone's laughter echoed off the exposed pipes in the ceiling, filling the canteen with tinny strains of lunacy. Mai cupped her hands over her ears and bent over to rest her head against the cool table. Breathing deep she closed her eyes.

_Three girls slumped in a cage no bigger than a dog kennel. Their limbs intertwined and pressed against the mesh at odd angles to make up for the lack of space. It seemed liked they'd partied too hard, climbed into the cage, and continued to drink until they passed out. Dark red stained their clothing. Newspaper covered the floor beneath and around the cage, and squares of blue-grey light filtered in from high-set windows. The room reeked of urine, mould and a sweet musk. If it weren't for the glinting of dust as it slipped through the low light, Mai would've assumed that she'd entered a photograph._

_Shivering, Mai wrapped her arms around her waist. The stillness and clarity of this new dream did not mesh with her typical marathon experiences—and that discontinuity set her stomach twisting in all directions._

_Her neck and shoulders stiffened. She glanced around, not daring to move anything but her eyes. Six-inch hooks hung from the low ceiling beams. A stained futon slumped in the far left corner. A black rubbish bag slumped in the right. Even in her peripheral, she couldn't locate a staircase, ladder or door—which left her to assume that the only exit stood behind her. A chill welded her joints together, and bringing her hands in front of her, she pressed her thumbs and forefingers together. Bou-san's mantra seemed to build heat in her mouth as she prepared to defend herself. Her lips trembled as she forced herself to remain calm. Eyes clenched shut, she jerked around._

_When nothing attacked, she slowly opened her eyes._

_She gasped, and the warmth of the mantra dissipated ineffectually into the frozen room. The same kennel scene stood before her as though she'd never moved._

_Newspaper rustled._

_From behind the cage, a gaunt boy of perhaps eight years stepped into view. His tatty blue hoodie dwarfed him, falling so close to his knees that only two centimetres of his red shorts peeked out from beneath the hem._

_In one hand he clenched the length of the necklace that he wore. At a distance it appeared to be made of strange little shells. _

_Mesh rattled beneath his trailing hand as he circled the cage once, and then a second time—seemingly more interested in making noise than in seeing what lay inside. When he returned to the front, he flicked the latch. Hinges screamed as he drew the cage door wide open._

_Mai squinted into the shadows. She wondered why the girls inside did not move. Did not scramble to escape._

_The boy turned his head slowly until he was staring at her from over his shoulder and spoke in a voice too deep for his age. 'They're waiting for you.'_

_Something seized her by the arm, and she staggered headfirst into the cage. A shove from behind forced her all the way inside, and the door slammed shut. Elbows and knees jabbed her from every angle, and it seemed to Mai that she was struggling to swim in a puddle of bones. The stench, beyond rank, made her gag. She clasped one hand over her mouth and nose, knowing that if she took too deep a breath that she'd either vomit or scream._

_The mesh rattled. Newspaper rustled._

_Mai quit struggling and clenched her eyes shut. She tried to call up Bou-san's mantra, but 'just a dream, just a dream' were the only words that she could form with her mouth._

'_You're wrong,' the boy said._

_One of the girls fell forward onto her. Mai apologised and tried to find another position that did not involve sprawling across the cage's other occupants. When the other girl did not sit up, Mai pushed gently on her shoulder._

_The girl's head lolled, her face grey and expressionless, and then her head disconnected fully from her body, tumbling down to rest wound-up in the crook of Mai's arm. Mai drew a deep breath in preparation to scream. The smell of rotten flesh tasted sweet and salty, natural and unholy, and it set every nerve in her body into overload. Bad air. Mai gagged and forced the head and corpse away from her, but the sharp action only dismembered other body parts. Her hand punctured flesh as though it was bread dough, and every time she moved, joints popped—like chicken wings being torn from a roast dinner. If she survived, she swore she'd become a vegetarian. Soon three bodies' worth of mismatched limbs blanketed her._

_The boy laughed through his nose. 'What are you going to do now? Are you going to call for help?'_

_Mai whimpered, and a blaze of shame swept through her body._

'_You don't have much time,' the boy said, kneeling down to the left of the cage. He released his grasp on his necklace in order to entwine his fingers in the mesh. A chain of human teeth thumped against his chest. 'Soon I'll have no use for you, but….' The boy glanced around the room as though taking it in for the first time. 'I'm going to safely assume that _he_ wants you.'_

_Mai kicked out, aiming for the boy's hands, but one moment he was kneeling beside her and the next he stood safely beside the futon near the far wall. The impact of her knee against the bars rocked the cage slightly. Curling her other leg beneath her, she lashed out again with more force. Again the cage rocked but remained upright. The boy wheezed with laughter, and the sound sparked off a yet untouched rage inside of Mai. She flung herself bodily against the cage, ignoring the mesh as it sliced away at her skin. The corpses snapped and oozed around her, their weight counterbalancing all her efforts to overturn the cage. Mai worked the rancid air through her vocal cords. She shrieked and thrashed in frustration, but cold fear began to damper her rage. Her feet, which she realised belatedly were bare, shredded against the mesh, and every muscle seized with panic and exhaustion. She continued to scream until razors seemed to puncture her throat and she couldn't struggle any longer. Her elbows collapsed and her face rested against the soften flesh of a corpse's calf._

_Hot tears squeezed from her eyes. 'Naru….'_

_Fingers trailed thunder across the cage. 'Now, Mai, was that so difficult?'_

'Taniyama-san!'

'Naru!' Mai jolted upright, nearly braining Atari, the young shelter volunteer, from the day before. Mai'd fallen asleep again in the Saint Giles canteen.

Mai jerked to her feet and ran her shaking hands down the front of her shirt, praying that bits of the corpses hadn't followed her out of the dream. It had happened before—not this particular dream, but she'd woken up before to find bits of other night terrors had followed her home. Once she'd clutched a bloody scalp. Another time it had been the fingernails of some ghoulish creature. They had been embedded in her arm. Luckily today nothing so gruesome clung to her.

'Taniyama-san!' Atari placed a hand on Mai's shoulder.

Father Endo strode into the canteen, his hackles raised and his face pinched, but as his narrowed eyes settled on Mai, his over-large top lip curled and annoyance melted into self-satisfaction. 'What a delightful surprise.' His nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath through his flat nose—as though he were savouring Mai's scent.

Atari held out apologetic hands to Father Endo. 'Father, this is Taniyama—'

'Mai,' he said with a tight smile. 'Yes, we've met before. Have a bad dream, did you?'

The acid in Mai's stomach seemed to curdle. 'No. I mean, yes but… I… I mean, I'm sorry….' How on earth did she explain? Father Endo watched her with a kind of gleeful anticipation, whereas several 'guests' gawped at her, obviously coming to the conclusion that Mai was indeed just another hallucinating junkie. 'Yes. It was a very bad dream. It won't happen again. I promise.'

'How can you make promises about something you can't control?' Father Endo asked smartly. 'The canteen is no place to sleep, and I am aware that all the futons are occupied. Why don't you come with me to my office? I have a couch—'

'No! Th… thank you,' Mai said, bowing again, 'but… I have to get to work.'

'Honestly!' Atari reached out to Mai, but Father Endo stayed her hand. 'You should really—'

'Let her be, Atari-chan,' Father Endo interrupted, drawing the girl away. 'In time she'll come to understand.'

Unsure how to respond, Mai quickly gathered her shoes and her new rucksack and headed for stairs that led to the shower room. Someone trailed close behind her. Mai wheeled around with her rucksack clutched high, prepared to bludgeon Father Endo if needs be.

Wide-eyed and stammering, Atari clearly had altruistic motives. That in and of itself seemed both nostalgic and ridiculous. Again the girl reminded her of Keiko and Michiru—so naïve.

Mai lowered her rucksack and struggled for an explanation that would not damage the girl's rose-tinted glasses. Lost for words, Mai blurted the first thing that came to mind: 'Earlier. In the hallway. Sister Mara was ranting about something and Father Endo interrupted….'

Atari blinked with confusion but bobbled her head. 'Someone was trying to bring a dog into the shelter. No drugs. No pets. Those are the rules. Otherwise the place will be overrun with fleas.'

Intoxication _and_ fleas. Bad combo. 'But Father Endo let him in?'

'Yes, since Father Marcus left and Father Endo took over, there have been quite a few… um… changes… to the… um… procedures,' the girl said, cringing like she'd just shared a very important secret.

Mai sent the girl a pinched smile. 'It was a silly question. I'm sorry. I'm just going to shower…'

'Of course. Of course, Taniyama-san,' the girl said, backing up a step. 'I just wanted you to know… if you need help….'

'Atari-san, right? Thanks, but…' Mai couldn't exactly tell the girl to get real. 'But I'll be fine. I always am.'

Mai sighed with relief when the girl didn't follow her into the basement hallway. Mai just needed to shower and get out of that place. On her way she passed several other 'guests'—some mere husks of people and others frenzied with stimulants. They all seemed to take pleasure in shouldering each other out of the way. None of them made eye contact. How long did she have until she became just like them?

Inside the shower room Mai hesitated, examining her bare feet. Were they more sliced up than before? Did all those cuts come from her boots? The dread that she might have the same grey and rotted face of the kennel corpses drove her eyes in every direction but the mirror. It took several fortifying breaths before she could look at herself.

Without the gunk Aoi sprayed in it, her hair—the three centimetres that she had left—floated like goose down. The shaved back displayed her long neck, and while Mai'd never considered her face to be attractive, her ears did show potential. Though she appeared considerably paler than a healthy person, her skin lacked the waxy texture of the dead. Stepping beneath the shower's freezing spray, she forced the dream out of her conscious thoughts.

For the second day in a row, Mai dried off her body with paper towels before wiggling into the belt skirt. Her _I see dead people_ clung to her like a sopping second skin. If anyone asked, she was going for a retro look—Aoi-san's orders. Of course she'd get in trouble because of her lack of makeup, but her budget hardly allowed for lipstick purchases.

Figuring time wouldn't make her look any better, Mai rushed out of the bathroom and through the shelter. She found that if she didn't focus and refused to react to the other 'guests' than she could almost convince herself that they didn't exist. If she really tried, she could block Father Endo's face from her mind and ignore her writhing gut and pretend that everything was going to be okay. And everything would be okay once she got back to Gin Knockers and another night of loud music, drunken customers and leering comments from Fujiwara-san.

She had to look on the bright side. At least she wasn't locked in a kennel with three dismembered corpses. What wouldn't she give to have Gene back? To have him guide her away from those unbearable dreams? It was wrong to wish for such a thing, though. She should hope that, wherever he was, he was happy. After all that he'd already done for her, Gene deserved to rest in peace.

Shivering, Mai raced into the subway station.


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

A wind ripped through the open-air market, and hangers clinked against the stall's railings. 'What do you think of the _Hell's Angels_ t-shirt? What if I wear it like a mini-dress? Is that too cliché?'

Have never been asked her opinion regarding fashion—especially not by a stranger—Mai shook her head in confusion. 'No…?' she whispered, her voice scratchy with the beginnings of a cold.

The enquiring woman stretched the shirt over her thighs and huffed with indecision. She lacked the confident nature that Mai assumed any person with a spike through her chin should instinctively embody. 'Help me out here,' the woman said. 'I want this outfit to say _I'm tough, I'm original, I'm sexy_—_and I'm not afraid to show off my ass. _You know, just like yours does.'

Mai tugged the waistline of her holey, floor-scrubbing jeans and attempted to smooth the tear lower so that it showed off her _leg_ and not her butt. Mai's mortification made the cold and damp late-October morning feel like a blistering afternoon in mid-July.

Tired of seeing her wear the same mini-skirt for over a week, Aoi had ordered Mai to pick up new barmaid clothing. Fujiwara had asked a lot of questions regarding Mai's situation, and speculations were the hot topic of Gin Knockers staff gossip. Someone was bound to find out that Mai's building had burnt down, and they'd tell her perverted, scheming boss.

The pierced woman pinched Mai's elbow. Mai flinched and jerked backwards. Fisting her hands, she cocked her right arm back with enough tension that she shook bodily. It was a defensive stance that she'd picked up at the shelter. Oblivious to Mai's hyper-alert status, the woman held up five shirts. 'Which one do you think?'

Mai glanced at the stall owner. He hadn't missed Mai's reaction, and he watched her warily. Mai'd hoped to haggle with the owner and purchase a stained dress for half-price, but judging by his pinched expression, she doubted the deal would go through.

Glancing back at the woman and noticing the designer label that hung from her handbag, Mai lowered her fists and pointed at one shirt. 'Not that one. The others are good.'

The woman tossed aside the rejected shirt and regarded the others. To be specific, she put back the _'sometimes I worry about zombies_' t-shirt—the only shirt in the bunch that Mai'd found amusing. If it didn't cost much, she planned to buy it.

'Which one is _best?'_ the woman asked.

Having no idea, Mai pointed at the black and the green shirts. 'You could layer them and wear a gold belt?' She gestured at the stall's accessory display. 'But the other two would be nice as well.'

Shrugging, the woman thrust the clothing at the stall owner and pointed at a gold belt. Purchasing clothing on a whim, Mai'd never had that luxury. Even when her mom was alive, they lived frugally on the wages of a teashop assistant, and though Mai wouldn't consider herself jealous, she did wonder if she'd ever have that kind of financial freedom.

By encouraging the women to spend more, Mai'd managed to sweeten up the stall owner. In the end, she guiltily clutched a bag containing the t-shirt and dress that she'd wanted, along with a pair of shorts, stocking, a pack of cotton panties and a large flower-brooch which would hide the stain on her new dress. All given to her for a ridiculously low sum. She bewilderedly thanked the stall owner before losing herself in the growing market crowd. She wondered why some people acted so nice toward her, while other people… well… _did not_.

Now she faced the problem of hiding the purchases from the other shelter 'guests'. Saint Giles seemed perpetually full of people. People who moaned, smelled, fought and thieved.

The situation at Saint Giles had certainly changed since Father Endo's arrival and her horrifying kennel dream. Excepting Atari, the shelter staff was still rude to Mai—but at least they guaranteed her a futon for sleep. Initially Mai assumed that the gifted futon was part of a compromise: _if Mai was allowed a futon, she wouldn't disturb people with her screaming in the canteen. _According to Atari, though, Father Endo had submitted Mai's application for permanent futon availability based on health issues.

By Atari's account, Father Endo was merely over-keen about his new role as director of the shelter. Apparently he often recruited new 'guests' that he met on the street, and he was exceptionally proactive in fundraising. The high school girl thought the world of Father Endo, and while Mai couldn't share her enthusiasm, he became a little less terrifying—just so long as she didn't run into him in a darkened hallway.

Every day the dower matron took great pains to remind Mai that drugs were prohibited before showing her to a dark, futon-carpeted room.

On the first day they'd offered her a place to sleep, the futon had been infested with bed bugs. Luckily she'd suffered only mild bites before realising the problem. She hadn't dreamed that evening, nor for the subsequent three. At first it felt like a reprieve, but she had to wonder what she'd done to earn it.

The dreams rekindled on the fifth day at the shelter. On the first occasion that she stepped back into the kennel room, Mai somehow managed to wake herself up. She'd been standing alone in the kennel room when the boy appeared, and his face dropped in shock as she'd faded away. The second instance followed the same pattern, but he'd tried to grab her and reel her back in, saying _perhaps we need to try harder!_ She'd focused on him and shoved with her mind—hoping that she could tap into an undiscovered PK talent—but instead of forcing the boy back, she'd rocketed backward into a will o' the wisp ether, where she floated for sometime before waking in relative comforted. 'Relative' because some crackhead had been trying to steal her rucksack, which doubled as Mai's pillow.

The tips at Gin Knockers had been generous since her haircut and restyle, though, and Mai clung to the knowledge that, if things continued to be as lucrative, she would be able to move out of Saint Giles sooner than expected. When she got her own place, she planned to put up wards.

Well, she planned to _try_ to put up wards. The more she read up on the topic, the more she figured warding was exactly what she needed to get a decent day's sleep—and she'd been doing a whole lot of reading since the fire.

Mai smiled at the security guards as she crossed the foyer of the Metropolitan Central Library. She'd come here the first time because it was _free_, and it meant that she didn't have to spend more time at the shelter. By some divine mistake, while lost in the stacks, she literally stumbled over a book about _omamori_. Though in her case buying shrine amulets probably wouldn't be effective, it gave her the idea to do a little research. She came to the library every day during the late mornings and early afternoons, and if the truth be told, Mai'd never studied this hard even during school exams.

Before cracking the books, Mai quickly accessed the internet at one of the library's public computer terminals. The impulse bordered on stalker-ish, but she hoped if she just took one little peek at Naru's face, maybe she could absorb some of his intelligence. She needed all the smarts she could get in order to get through her research.

So she googled _Oliver Davis_ in the image directory—and of course his handsome, stony, unsmiling face flashed up by the dozens on the screen. It was weird how _not famous_ he'd been as Kazuya Shibuya, and how darn-near _royalty_ he seemed as Oliver Davis. She bit down a wave of anger. _He'd lied to her. He'd lied every single day_.

It had been a bad idea to google him. She moved to close out the browser when a smaller image caught her eye. Naru and an Englishman stood shoulder to shoulder. Both of their grim faces were smudged with soot. Mai clicked to bring up the associated webpage, and it was an article in an English-language newspaper. Her skills in English reading comprehension weren't great, but she managed to make out the words _fire, father, _and _crime_. Naru and his father were busy solving psychic crimes. Naru was busy doing the things he loved—with the people he loved. Mai was happy for him.

She really was happy for him.

But she shouldn't have googled his name. She promised herself she'd never do it again. Breathing deep and steadying her nerves, Mai left the computer terminal and wandered further into the library's depths.

Sitting down at the cubicle that she'd begun to consider _hers_, Mai pulled from her pocket a wad of napkins that she'd filched from Gin Knockers. She set aside half to tend to her runny nose and flattened out the rest into neat sheets of paper. She flipped open a thick book and began to take notes in cramped handwriting on the napkins. She sucked at maths, but research and analytical equations were her strong points. That's probably the biggest reason that she'd loved working at SPR. That and a certain stony-faced, tight-tushed narcissist.

Mai smacked herself upside the head. 'No more googling for you. Concentrate, idiot,' she whispered to herself in a passable impression of Naru, before she returned to reading about Taoist talismans.

Two hours later her eyes ached, and Mai collapsed into her heap of paper napkin notes. Why did this particular book focus so much on the use of _chicken blood_? Decapitated and drained. Joints popping, flesh splitting, and legs torn from the hips.

_Smash. The sound of shattering glass echoed from the top of the dilapidated stairwell. '__You're a filthy whore.' Crack. _

_A girl of twelve or thirteen tumbled down the stairs—legs tangled and arms pinned to her chest. Her head thwacked against the banister and then against the steps before she finally landed in a lifeless heap at Mai's feet. _

_From the girl's limp hands rolled a glass ball—like a snow globe but filled with black sand. Mai reached down, but whether it was to help the girl or retrieve the ball, she wasn't sure. Fear knotted in her stomach, and she hesitated at the last moment. The girl sat up by way of a series of mechanical jerks—as though she were a windup doll. Tipping her head back, she stared up at Mai with empty eye sockets. 'Filthy,' she hissed._

_Mai spun around and tripped onto a city sidewalk littered with rubbish bags and mounds of blankets. Large paving stones rocked beneath her weight, as though they might drop into the sub terrain at any moment. Bracing herself, sucking in deep breaths, Mai stood upright and waited. Traffic trundled in the distance. Otherwise the place seemed abandoned—but she could feel something watching. Greedy. Hungry._

_Encased in meshed shutters, shop windows glowed with dim security lights. Only a furniture showroom's window remained uncaged and fully lit. As though someone had forgotten to lock it up. It exhibited a sample bathroom set—white ceramic sink, toilet, shower—and on the edge of the large tub sat a mannequin. _

_Mai edged forward, testing each paving stone before applying her full weight._

_It was just an average mannequin. No evil smile. No blood. No missing parts. Standing before the display, Mai didn't like it._

_A growl rumbled through the street at her back, and Mai whipped around to face it. Red eyes burned like twin ends of newly lit cigarettes._

_She scrambled backward, her feet tangling in each other, and the display window shattered. She covered her face in preparation for landing in a bed of broken glass, but she instead found herself submerged in water._

_Sputtering, she sat up in a cold bathtub. A metallic stench tainted her first breath and coaxed vomit into the back of her mouth. Beneath her a naked and bloated corpse stained the water red with the blood from his slit wrists._

_It was the mannequin—but not. She was in the display—but not. The window, the city, the red eyes had been replaced by four mildewing walls._

_Mai's shoes squeaked against the floor as she clambered across the bathroom. With her hand on the door, she hesitated. Whatever awaited her on the other side would definitely be worse than a corpse in a bathtub. If she took a moment to catch her breath, if she could only concentrate, maybe she could wake herself up again._

_Something pricked the bathwater. A drop from the faucet? She'd never be so lucky._

_Mai wrenched the door toward her, but it wouldn't budge. Rattling the doorknob, it moved freely as though it were unlocked, but the door felt glued to the frame. Water sloshed. Straining backward, she yanked with all her weight. Carrying equipment, crates of beer, trays stacked with heavy glasses, her active lifestyle meant she possessed a great deal of strength despite her petite—and recently bony—body, but the door refused to open toward her._

_The shower curtain rustled._

_A burst of clarity lit off in the back of Mai's mind, and she rammed her shoulder into the door._

_It opened forward, and Mai tumbled into a rioting art gallery. Even as she ducked under jabbing elbows, she sighed with deep relief. This scene she knew. She must've stumbled into the rioting art gallery at least a dozen times. Maybe more. Ladies in fine dresses and men in suits battered each other with palms and handbags and the occasional exhibition booklet._

_At the centre of the exhibition was the sculpture of a burst fire hydrant. It reminded Mai of a willow tree with metal rivulets spouting out of the hydrant and arching down like the tree boughs. Mai dodged and weaved through the crowd to stand in the sanctuary between the rivulets. From her shelter she breathed slowly until her nerves calmed. _

_The shrieking, hair-pulling, shoe-throwing, and clothing-shredding lent the scene a Saturday cartoonish quality. People were knocked to the floor and trampled, but they strung up and back into the fray at the first opportunity._

_Those unlikely actions comforted Mai. It could not be a pre- or post-cognitive vision because unless she was witnessing an epidemic of rabies or a case of mass-possession, people could not behave in such a manner. After getting backhanded, knocked to the floor and squashed by a dozen people, no normal human could leap to her feet and tear a man's shirt off with her bare hands._

_For the time being, she could stand apart from the insanity and pretend things were okay. If it weren't for the riot, Mai might have enjoyed the art on display—the show seemed to have an urban theme. Paintings and drawing and photographs of crowded trains, streets, clubs and cafés. The art spoke of Tokyo with all its inexhaustible energy._

_A laptop computer jettisoned over the crowd and smashed into a wall, shattering the glass frame of a large painting. That was Mai's cue to leave. If she stayed longer, she would see palms and elbows replaced by fists and legs torn off chairs, and things would become bloody._

_The way out was, as she'd unfortunately learned, not through the front door. That just led to further rioting. The way out was through a photograph—most any one worked. The unfortunate part was that she had no control of where it took her._

_Crouching low and hurrying through the crowd, she paused in front of a photograph of a club—she'd gone through it before and it'd been okay. Nothing too graphic on the other side, and so once again she shoved both hands through the image, gripped the inside of the frame and hoisted herself into the next scene._

_More mannequins. Tall and slender as real models, the mannequins towered a good 25-centemetres over her—some even more if they had their arms raised up, posed as though they were dancing in a night club—not just any night club. Gin Knockers. Mai's stomach clenched. This was not where the photograph had taken her before._

_Over by the centre bar, a mannequin clattered to the floor. And then another fell from the balcony in the VIP lounge. It wore a tiny red dress. It shattered on impact, taking down other dolls in the process._

_Mai darted for the staff exit. Behind her she could hear fibreglass bodies falling like bowling pins. Wrenching the metal door open, she stumbled into darkness and tripped to her hands and knees._

_Something covered the floor. She fisted her hand, and the floor covering crackled. Crumpled. Like paper._

_Mai blinked hard and light flooded the room._

_Newspapers. She knelt on a carpet of newspapers._

_Someone screamed in fear and agony. For a moment, Mai thought she'd made the sound herself—but she could hardly fill her ravenous lungs, and numbing exhaustion made it impossible for her to draw out such a long note of terror._

_Mai pulled herself upright on watery legs. Professional photography lamps flooded the kennel room with light._

_In the far left corner, a young girl shrieked and bowed against a large man who had her pinned to the futon. Blood burbled from her mouth and smeared across her face. Her legs scrambled futilely, and she bucked her hips as the man used a black bladed knife to tear open her dress. The blade sliced her skin, and the girl's writhing forced the knife to puncture her further. When red coated half the blade, the man withdrew it. He then wiped the blade in a meticulous pattern on a newspaper before returning it to her stomach._

_Mai clasped her hands over her mouth, but the action did not hold in her whimper. The man whipped his head around. Though his features appeared blurred, she could tell that he was looking directly at her. 'You'll have to wait your turn.'_

_Something thick and rough tightened around Mai's neck. A rope. It snicked tighter, gagging her, and she clawed at her throat in an attempt to get her fingers beneath the noose. Gouging herself with her fingernails, her neck slicked with blood, but the rope remained taut._

'_You aren't ready.' The blur-faced man with the knife stood in front of her. _

_Freezing up amidst her struggles, Mai tried to slow her breathing—to think. Think. There had to be a way out. Behind the blur-faced man, his battered and bloodied victim was sitting up, clutching her stomach as though she could staunch the welling blood._

_The blur-faced man dragged his calloused thumb across Mai's bottom lip. 'When you are, you'll come to me,' he whispered. 'And you'll beg me.'_

_Mai stepped backwards—into emptiness. The rope fell with her. Flailing she grasped for any support, but she only managed to break apart will-o-wisps. This wasn't the same ether that she'd escaped into before. In that ether she'd floated—in this one, gravity claimed her greedily. In this one she knew there was a bottom, and it wouldn't be long until she shattered against it. Or worse, the length of rope would run out._

_Mai clenched her eyes shut and sobbed._

_Cold hands cupped her face. 'I want you to scream louder this time. I want him to hear you,' the boy with the deep and grave voice said, and Mai obliged._

_The rope snapped taut._

...

'Where the hell have you been?' Aoi demanded, hauling Mai out of the rain and in through the backdoor of Gin Knockers_._ Mai's lungs ached with exertion and the need to cough. Several staff members stared at her soaked attire and listened intently for their manager's reprimand. Aoi didn't disappoint them. 'If you're late again, I'll sack you. Don't waste my time. Got it? Did you buy a dress like I told you? Get changed. You're on the centre bar tonight.'

Mai couldn't have heard correctly. The residual effects of the latest kennel dream must've messed with her hearing. 'The _centre_?' Mai worked the side bar; she'd never worked the centre. Working the centre meant moving triple-pace, never chatting with customers, and performing the 60-seconds-on-the-hour bar walk. Only aggressive barmen and flamboyant barmaids had what it took to serve all night on the centre.

'You heard me.' Aoi dismissed Mai with a finger snap.

Perplexed by Aoi's harsh demeanour, Mai hurried to the staff toilet, avoiding eye contact with her whispering colleagues. Alone in the grotty room, she ran the cold tap and attempted to wash some colour into her sallow skin. It only brought out the heavy bruising beneath her eyes. She glanced longingly at the pair of shorts that the kind stall owner had given her, but in the end she changed into the dress as Aoi had directed. The ballooned hem fell to mid-thigh, which Mai considered a great improvement on the belt-skirt. The low neckline, though, showcased Mai's throat to a gruesome effect.

Truth be told, she'd come out of the dream with less injuries than she'd expected. Fingerprint-sized bruises dotted her neck, but it lacked the bloodied scratches. Furthermore considering the conclusion of the dream, Mai felt lucky to be _alive_ and to not have bitten off her own tongue.

No part of the dream had been agreeable—but the aspect that concerned Mai the most was the kennel boy's words. He wanted someone to hear her scream. Did he mean the blur-faced man? Or was it someone else? And since the fire had destroyed everything, she couldn't imagine what she owned that the boy wanted to possess.

The bathroom door crashed open.

'You look like shit. Again. What happened to your neck?' Aoi asked, locking the door behind her.

Mai winced as she placed her trembling fingers over her throat. 'I'm sorry, Aoi-san. I fell asleep at the library.'

'_Books_ don't leave marks like that. _Boys_ do. New bit of advice for you, Taniyama-chan: get yourself a prince, get yourself a knight, get yourself a well-hung stable boy—it doesn't really matter which one you choose, just so long as you get_ rid_ of the rat-assed bastard who did this to you.'

Mai didn't have the courage to tell Aoi that she'd injured herself in a final battle against a dream-noose. A disgruntled librarian had shaken her awake, and an annoyed crowd of academics had complained about the disturbance that she'd made. She'd have an issue accessing the library again, that was for sure.

Aoi sighed at Mai's silence. 'Do you have_ any_ sense of self-preservation?' She tore the scarf from her own neck, and she wound it around Mai's throat, knotting it in a side bow. 'And who said you could look _cute_ tonight? You've got to be tough, Taniyama-chan. _Tough_.' Wetting her hands under the faucet, she spiked Mai's downy hair into a Mohawk. 'Fujiwara's caught on to you. Someone's been whispering stories in those tallow ears of his. You've got tonight to prove your worth as a barmaid, or he's going to draft you.'

Mai struggled to swallow. 'I'll quit first.'

'And risk the yakuza? You won't.'

Mai's eyes locked with Aoi's in the mirror. 'How did you know?'

Aoi looked away and pulled out her trusty makeup kit. She concentrated on painting Mai's face as she explained, 'Nice girls like you work in cafés and gift shops. You're personal assistants for handsome bosses that fall for your cheerful spirit and profess their undying love for you while on a romantic business trip. Then they eagerly marry you and give you two adorable kids and a big house and happily-ever-after.'

Mai half-choked and half-laughed at the notion of Naru and her ever going on a _romantic_ business trip—let alone him professing his undying love for her. The man couldn't even say _please_ or _thank you_. The idiot thought that she was in love with his dead brother.

Blotting Mai's lips with a piece of toilet paper, Aoi continued, 'I'll bet that it isn't even _your_ debt that you're paying off, eh? What is it? Your dead mother's? Has anyone ever told you that you're life reads like a bad television drama?'

'More like a Nakata Hideo film,' Mai muttered, but her comment was lost in the hiss of hairspray.

'You've got to keep it together. No hesitations. No mistakes.' Aoi pinched Mai's chin between her thumb and forefinger. 'This is all the help you're getting from me tonight.'

'You keep saying that you're not my fairy godmother, but—'

'If you're still harbouring under that delusion by the end of this shift… well then we'll know for certain that you're psychotic.' She shoved Mai toward the door. 'Now get behind the centre bar and don't let Fujiwara see you fuck up.'

The head barman spared Mai exactly five minutes to run through the unique procedures performed behind the centre bar, and fifteen minutes later, Mai felt like a pinball as her colleagues forcefully moved her out of their way in their rush to serve. She struggled to pull beers, mix cocktails and pour shots all in one go. Sweat dripped off her face, and the taste of makeup soured in her mouth. The scarf constricted her throat, but she didn't dare to take it off.

Until that night, Mai'd considered herself knowledgeable when it came to mixing drinks—if Gin Knockersdid anything right, it was to drill cocktail recipes into the brains of new staff—but half the orders from centre bar customers were for drinks that she'd never heard of. _Danish Minuets, Bonsai Titties, Quadriplegic Ninjas._ The requests had her pouring over the cocktail bible, and the latest order—a _Szarlotka Squall_—literally had Mai scratching her head.

'Here!' the head barman shouted, plonking two oversized martini glasses onto the counter. 'It's a Polish martini garnished with coffee beans and a vanilla pod! It'll be popular tonight! Charge 3,000-yen each!'

Mai nearly dropped the bottle of Krupnik. 'How much?'

The barman just winked and rushed off.

When Mai turned back to her customers with the outrageously expensive _Szarlotka Squalls_, she faced a mob of hens, stags and disgruntled mother-in-laws to-be. It turned out that several wedding parties had booked into Gin Knockers, and the drunken brides were getting territorial.

Soon after that she figured out the customer patterns. The men from the stag-do strictly ordered cask beer, the hens preferred fruity shots and frilly cocktails, the older women stuck to wine, and the dodgier guys demanded their liquors straight up. Forecasting the requests smoothed the pace, and Mai ceased to get trampled by the other bar staff.

'Mai-chan! Mai-chan! I found you,' _Captain_-san shouted over the music. Thrusting several scrawny girls out of his way, he leaned across the bar. 'Hey, hey…. Knock-knock.'

Relieved to see a familiar face, Mai grabbed two tumblers and a bottle of rum, and she hustled over to pour the drinks in front of her favourite regular. 'Who's there?'

'Smell mop.'

'Smell…?' Mai paused to work the joke out in her head. '_Captain_-san! That's terrible.' As she laughed, the tightness that had manifested in the bottom of her lungs moved from a vague rumbling to a rather unattractive and painful hacking fit.

'You got to quit smoking, Mai-chan! It'll kill you!' _Captain_-san said, handing her the usual wad of money.

Mai pressed the back of her hand to her mouth for a second. 'I don't smoke.'

'In that case,' _Captain_-san tossed another lump of cash onto the bar, 'go see a doctor, jou-chan!'

Dismayed Mai waved her hand at the money, trying to indicate that he reclaim it, but the man turned his back and shuffled across the dance floor. Although the DJ remixed Bob Marley in a trance track, _Captain_-san still appeared to be doing the travelling-time-step. Mai put the dually generous tip in her apron and promised herself she'd find a way to repay his kindness.

Aoi hurried behind the bar with an unlabelled bottle of spirits. 'You're first to walk the bar tonight, Taniyama-chan!'

Mai shook her head, but Aoi ignored her. She dropped a glow-in-the-dark necklace and a whistle around Mai's neck and handed her the unlabelled bottle. Another staff member kicked a chair up against the end of the bar.

Sirens sounded through the club and all the spotlights swung to illuminate the centre bar. _DJ DeeJay_ whooped into the mic. 'What time is it?' he asked.

'60-seconds-on-the-hour!' the crowd answered.

'That's your cue, Taniyama-chan! Life's a bitch.' Aoi smacked Mai on the butt, and a barman lifted her up onto the chair. Mai pleaded silently with Aoi, but the older woman shrugged and shouted: 'So fuck her!'

Mai hesitantly stepped onto the bar. She'd seen other bar staff do this every Saturday night—and she'd hoped to never do it herself.

The crowd rushed the bar, only a few stragglers and the VIPs remained apart from the heaving mass. On the balcony, Fujiwara leaned into a booth and chatted with a tall, shadowed man. Mai's stomach lurched. Fujiwara nodded in her direction.

Someone grabbed Mai's ankle, and when she jerked away, several guys whooped and announced that she was wearing polka-dotted panties. Pressing her legs as firmly together as possible while still edging toward the centre of the bar, Mai stumbled over grasping hands and empty glasses. _DJ DeeJay_ started the countdown from 10. Mai fumbled with the whistle that hung around her neck and she shoved it into her mouth. Choosing a harmless looking guy from the crowd, she gestured that he should turn around and lean his head back on the bar. When the alarm sounded, Mai upturned the bottle of spirits and poured a steady stream into the guy's mouth.

When the guy could swallow no more, he choked and jolted away. Mai blew her whistle and moved on to the next person with her head on the bar. One of the brides. She only took five second's worth of spirits before gasping, and the next two brides followed suit. By the time the 60-seconds were up and the sirens sounded, Mai had emptied the spirit bottle down five customer's throats. Making a random guess at which customer had swallowed the most, she pointed to the first guy and blew her whistle several times. The crowd went mad. The bridal parties tried to boycott the decision, but generally the patrons agreed with Mai's judgement, and they continued to cheer. It was impossible to not smile when everyone seems so exhilarated. She handed the empty bottle to the 'winner', and he held it over his head like a trophy.

Mai took a moment to image just how disappointed the guy would be if someone told him that the bottle had been filled with 10 percent gin and 90 percent water. He'd probably cry. Mai giggled at his deluded sense of victory and at the drunken, but jovial, patrons as they moved back to the dance floor. The head barman and several other colleagues gave Mai the thumbs up. Aoi leaned against the mini-fridges with her hands in her pockets and her eyebrows raised. She appeared satisfied, if mystified, as though she'd won an ill-gambled bet. From the dance floor sidelines, _Captain_-san and _Polly_-kun waved at Mai, and she returned the gesture, shrugging with a bewildered grin. It boggled her how everyone found the 60-second ritual amusing. Staff and customers alike.

Only one person did not appear amused, and he too stood on top of the bar, facing Mai from the far end. He crossed his arms, and his mouth pulled into an uncharacteristically ominous frown.


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Impossible.

Mai struggled to draw a breath.

Gene was dead. He'd moved on—yet somehow he stood opposite her on Gin Knockers' centre bar.

Naru had said that she'd meet Gene again someday, and although Mai'd never really believed him, she had spent quite a few insomniac hours imagining dreamscape reunions. They'd varied from warm greetings where she would fling herself into Gene's arms to frightening adventures when he'd save her from her marathon night terrors to Naru-esque meetings in which she'd casually comment on his continued monochromatic fashion choice.

Never had she figured to meet him while wide-awake.

Gene's image seemed warped—like a reflection in a pond—and when Mai reached out to pass a hand through him, there was a momentary resistance—like was made of water—before a shock of static crackled up her arm and straight into her brain. With her mind's eye, she could see a golden wind zipping between memories, knocking them to the floor and letting lids pop off and spill energy everywhere. She blinked hard to make sense of it but found herself back in Gin Knockers and staring at a much more substantial-looking ghost.

Mai glanced around the club surreptitiously. Being that he was a Davis twin, and therefore annoyingly good looking, it struck Mai as odd that he hadn't drawn the attention of the hen-night women. Moreover Aoi had yet to blow a fuse, so she'd obviously not noticed the non-staff member standing on the bar.

'They can't see me,' Gene said.

Having already puzzled that out, Mai merely nodded—hyper-conscious that if she spoke back to him, people would think she was crazy, and she was fed up with people coming to that conclusion about her.

Someone grabbed her ankle, and Mai tripped backwards. The head barman steadied her with hands on her hips, and he plucked her off the bar as though she weighed no more than an empty glass. 'Good job,' he breathed into her ear.

'This guy's a pervert,' Gene said in her other ear.

Mai jerked back and glared at both men. Well, at the barman and the _ghost_ standing beside him. Gene continued to look disgruntled, but the barman winked at her before returning to serving customers.

'What are you doing here?' Gene demanded.

Mai smoothed a hand down her outfit. She thought the apron made her employee-status quite obvious.

Gene scowled and nodded. 'You work here. I figured that much. When do you get your break?'

'I don't,' Mai said.

'You don't _what_?' Aoi asked as she uncorked a bottle of champagne.

'Um… I don't want to do that again?' Mai said to the older woman.

Gene frowned at Aoi. 'Tell this woman that you have a legal right to a break.'

'You'll walk the bar every hour on the hour until close,' Aoi said as she poured drinks. 'And next time try interacting more with the crowd. Remember: a higher profile means better tips. Now get back to serving.'

Avoiding eye contact with Gene, Mai fell back into her customer service pattern—smiling while she took orders and grumbling at the till while she calculated bills. Gene realised early on that Mai did not plan to acknowledge him, and so he wandered off to scope out the place before finally making himself comfortable beside the cocktail garnishes.

Mai stood beside him, salting margarita glasses, and was forced to listen to an earful of ghostly criticism. 'What kind of establishment is this place? Is that an orgy out on the dance floor? I expected to find ritual sacrifices going on in the VIP lounge.'

He continued on with his monologue for the rest of the night. _Why didn't you push the head barman away when he leaned in too close? Shouldn't you be wearing stockings and practical shoes? Was it ethical to accept such a large tip from such an obviously drunk person?_

They were all well-intended comments, but Gene's judgmental attitude was really getting on Mai's nerves.

…

Mai shut the staff toilet door behind her. A jolt of common-sense had her leaning back against the door, rather than locking it. Even she wasn't dumb enough to lock herself in a room with a ghost—no matter how benign he appeared.

'How?' Mai's voice came out harsh and rasping. 'Why?'

Gene looked thoughtful for a moment. 'I'm more interested in why you're here—though it quite obviously has everything to do with my idiot brother's absence.' Gene pressed at the tension point between his eyebrows. 'You do have a way of ending up exactly where you should not.'

A smile itched at the corner of Mai's mouth. Gene did seem to always show up when things got bad—at least he had in her dreams when she worked for SPR. Mai wrinkled her nose in confusion. 'But you're here _here_. I'm not dreaming, right? I thought you only helped me with cases.'

Clearly frustrated that she hadn't answered his question, Gene gestured for her to focus—but how could she focus?

'How do I even know that you're _Gene_?' What with all the strange psychic events recently, Mai didn't know what to believe. Gene was supposed to have moved on—perhaps this was one of the kennel boy's newest tricks. Lure her into a sense of safety and then _wham!_ lock her back in the cage with a bunch of dismembered corpses.

The ghost shifted uncomfortably as though he doubted his own ability to prove his identity. As Mai'd experienced the exact same powerless feeling when she'd first visited the bank after the fire, she almost gave in and accepted Gene at face value.

Almost.

Having spent the past six months slowly slipping out of the path of good karma, it occurred to Mai that accepting happy events at face value would probably bite her on the butt. And her butt was sore enough as it things stood. 'Prove it,' she said.

'We met for the first time during the case at your high school,' the ghost said.

Mai shrugged, unconvinced. Anyone with a little knowledge could figure that out.

'The last time we met was in a forest,' he continued.

Mai squinted at the ghost contemplatively.

'Noll's favourite pyjamas are blue and flannel, and he prefers patterned boxer-briefs.'

Blushing, Mai studied a crack in the tiled floor. 'I wouldn't know about Noll's underwear.'

'But you _want_ to know,' Gene prompted.

During their time apart, besides weaving fantastical reunion daydreams, Mai'd also give a great deal of thought to Naru's accusation—that she didn't love him at all and instead loved _Gene_. It was true that Mai liked Gene's smile, and she was grateful for all his assistance on cases, and Naru _was_ a narcissistic jerk… but Naru was the narcissistic jerk that she knew and thought maybe she understood a little. And although she'd missed Gene's protection and company in her dreams, it was Naru's absence in her everyday life that still felt like a gaping wound on her heart. If that wasn't love, she didn't know what was.

And if the truth be told—for all her assumed innocence and naivety—Mai_ had_ occasionally wondered about Naru's… personal effects. She loosed her arms from around her waist and allowed her shoulders to relax. 'Patterned, eh?'

'Well, striped,' Gene admitted, smiling for the first time since he'd appeared. 'And it isn't so much that he _prefers_ them as it is that our mother gives him striped boxer-briefs every Christmas and birthday.'

'What does she give you?' Her hands flew to her gaping mouth as though trying to hold back the question she'd already asked. It'd just popped out—flippant, flirtatious and insensitive—and Mai wished she could melt into a puddle on the floor and just _die_.

'Socks,' Gene said quietly. 'She gave me socks. There's no need to apologise, Mai. But do you believe me now?'

'Yes,' she said meekly.

Her answer didn't seem to satisfy him as she'd hoped it would. 'You believe me because we talked about my brother's underwear? Seriously, you've got to come up with some better security measures.'

Gene had never spoken this much in any of their past meetings, and Mai wasn't sure how much she liked this new, chatty and critical version. One thing was for sure, though, this ghost definitely was the twin of her snarky ex-boss. She'd have to read up on the genetics of attitude problem during her next visit to the library. 'My stomach's not heaving in a hundred directions, and I'm not feeling the need to run screaming from you, so….' Mai shrugged.

'That's a rather brutish approach to precognition, but fair enough,' Gene said, leaning up against a cubical wall. 'Now would you like to explain what's going on here? You look different.' The way he said it, the comment didn't feel complimentary.

Mai forced a smile. 'New packaging, same old product.'

'I wonder.' He took her appearance in—from her cheap ankle boots to her boy-cut hair—and he clearly liked none of it. 'I've been… otherwise occupied for the past months. Fill me in.'

'Why should I tell you anything?' She was sick of judgemental people. Up until recently, she'd spent her life flying under the radar, doing her best not to draw attention. She'd presented an uncomplicated front, and she'd assumed everyone else did the same. 'You _lied_ to me. You let me think you were _Naru_. I should be angry with you!'

'Fine. Be angry, but I want an explanation.'

Exhaustion ate away at her. Her entire body felt like one big bruise and her ribcage seemed to rattle with every breath. 'I want answers too.'

'You first.'

Since they'd entered the toilet, the faucet had been leaking incessantly, but now the rhythmic drips beat against the tension point at the base of Mai's skull. The sound rumbled through her mind—as though her brain were an empty water tank.

Mai lurched away from the door and wrenched on the handle until the faucet stopped dripping. If one could believe what one saw in a mirror, it seemed as though a female zombie slouched alone in a moulding bathroom. Her eyes were bruised, her mouth pinched, her hair sagged with perspiration. Mai glanced over her shoulder.

Gene still leaned against the cubicle wall. Waiting.

Mai stared back at her zombie-like refection, and she said everything aloud. Everything that she'd be unable to say to Aoi, Ayako, Bou-san and the others. She explained about Fujiwara, Gin Knockers, Saint Giles, the fire, the yakuza, leaving school, and the lies she'd been forced to tell. She described her marathon dream terrors, and the horrible night that she'd woken up clutching the bloodied scalp. She admitted that she always seemed to cry for Naru, and she hated herself for it. Never once in her life had she been so candid.

And somehow throughout her explanation she managed to hold her tears at bay. When she finished, she almost felt cleansed. Again, almost. She waited for Gene's commentary—waited for him to call her an idiot a thousand times over—but he remained silent.

A peek over her shoulder affirmed his presence. The only movement that he'd made was to stare at his shoes rather than at her face. Strange that he'd even have _shoes_, considering his ghostly state, and come to think about it since she'd touched him, he wasn't the least bit translucent. 'Your turn,' Mai said, turning around fully so that she was propped up against the sink. The position helped take a little pressure off her aching feet. 'How are you here? When are you going to disappear? Or will you go crazy like every other Earth-bound spirit?'

'It's complicated,' Gene said, still studying his shoes.

'Am I going to need an exorcist?'

'No,' he said sharply, his eyes meeting hers. 'I can promise you that.'

'What're the promises of liars worth nowadays?'

Gene glared at her for a long minute, perhaps even two—it felt like an hour to Mai's aching feet and exhausted body, but she wouldn't budge. She wanted answers. She needed them.

'Mai, are you aware that your aura is giving off bursts of energy like solar flares?' he said, successful distracting.

Mai glanced at her reflection but all she saw was her pale form in the harsh light. 'Is that a bad thing?'

'You're probably attracting a lot of unwanted attention,' he said. 'Bad dreams?'

'You've got no idea,' she muttered under her breath.

'I was only supposed to check… to check in.' Gene clenched and unclenched his fist. 'But… I should have known….' He drew in a shaking breath, which Mai only had a moment to ponder the irony of before he said: 'It may be best if I stick close to you for a while. Let's make a deal. I'll help you get your powers under control.'

None of it made sense. Why should Gene sacrifice his afterlife for her sake? 'But shouldn't you be lounging on a cloud somewhere? Or reincarnated as a blade of grass? Or something like that?'

'Boring. This'll be much more… productive.' He said the last word under his breath.

_Productive._ Just like Naru. Mai rolled her eyes.

'Anyway someone's got to keep you out of trouble,' he said, winking.

'What are you going to be, my _Conscience_-san?'

'I prefer _Gene_.'

'Nahhh….' Mai shook her head. 'You're like Jiminy Cricket in _Pinocchio_. From now on your name is Cricket-chi!'

Gene huffed. 'You and nicknames. Maybe you were right—new packaging, but still the same old product.'

Mai propped her hand on her hip. 'You don't have to be so grumpy about it.'

Aoi banged on the toilet door and yelled that it was time for her to start mopping the dance floor. Mai swatted Gene out of the way and darted into one of the toilet cubicles to change into her cleaning outfit. Tugging on the holey jeans, she wondered if her life was about to take a 180-degree turn. Again.


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

'I don't like it here.'

'Why would anyone? It's a shelter,' Mai whispered, trying not to move her lips. She needed to take some lessons in ventriloquism. 'Will you be quiet?'

'Why? No one can hear me,' Gene reasoned, stepping over a drunken man that had passed out across the Saint Giles main hallway. Vomit soiled the man's tailored suit, though someone had pulled his hair back with a pink headband.

Barely sparing the vagrant a glance, Mai pressed her fingers against the pinched nerve between her brows. Every time Gene grumbled, she felt as though a hot poker were being drilled into her brain. '_I _can hear you,' she muttered. Her body ached worse than ever, and even if she could access the library after yesterday's disturbance, she doubted that she could handle pouring over books about chickens' blood again. What she needed was a solid day's rest, and so they'd returned to Saint Giles directly after she'd finished mopping the floor at Gin Knockers.

If Gene would shut up—if she could lie down in a darkened room—perhaps she could muster up the strength that she'd need for the upcoming night. She'd done an admirable job on the centre bar—and Aoi'd promoted her to a permanent staff member. _Do it and do it right_. Mai hated her motto. At least this way, though, Fujiwara-san couldn't pester her as much. So few staff members could cut it on the centre bar that even he had to acknowledge that she was worth far more to him as a barmaid than as a potential hostess. And anyway, the tips that Mai'd made during this last shift were shockingly hefty.

'How long have you been staying here?' Gene asked.

'A week, two? I can't remember,' she said.

'And how long until you can afford to move out?'

'A week?'

'Taniyama-san. Is there a problem?' Father Endo stood in the reception room doorway and eyed her cautiously. He'd definitely overheard her talking to Gene—well, she supposed from the priest's point of view, she'd been talking to herself.

Rallying a tired smile, she said: 'Actually I was hoping to catch a little sleep.'

Sister Mara marched into the hallway. 'Our futons are all occupied.'

'Are you certain?' Father Endo asked in a dangerous voice.

Sister Mara looked for a moment like she was about to back down, but after another look at Mai, she clenched her jaw and said: 'I am absolutely certain.'

Mai wondered if that was a lie. The woman obviously thought she was an addict and a mentally unstable person, and she didn't want her befouling his precious shelter. Considering that she had a tramp barricading the main entryway, her attitude toward Mai felt rather unfair. Then again she'd disturbed the shelter so many times by screaming out in her dreams, she supposed she didn't blame her for her cold manner.

Father Endo did not press the matter. In fact he seemed rather bemused at Sister Mara's attitude. Mai'd simply have come back later and hope that a volunteer took over the job of bed allocation.

As she pivoted to leave, the movement caused her lungs to seize. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and bent over as the hacking fit racked her body. It made her ache in places that mere coughing had never hurt before—her lower back, her armpits, and even her bones. She wasn't crying—she wasn't a _wimp_ and she wasn't giving in to self-pity—but still moisture leaked from beneath her clenched eyes.

'Mai!' Gene reached out for her but found himself incorporeal and powerless.

'Perhaps you should rest on the couch in my office, Taniyama,' Father Endo said.

Mai shook her head furiously. There was no way in hell that she was putting herself in alone in a room with him. She didn't care that he was the director of the shelter. She'd heard enough about repenting on that first night they'd met. No. Absolutely not. She would not make use of his couch.

Sister Mara shifted uncomfortably. 'We might have a spare blanket. If you don't mind resting on the floor.'

Mai nodded, unable to speak for a long moment. Shallow breathing felt more comfortable, but it also made her light-headed. 'The floor's good enough for me,' she finally managed to say.

'As you please,' Father Endo said and turned away to disappear into his office.

Keeping her eyes shut, she waited for Sister Mara to return with the spare blanket. Whenever she lifted her lashes, the dim light of the hallway seared Mai's eyes as though she were standing in full sun exposure in the midst of a desert.

'You should have taken the couch,' Gene said. 'How long have you been feeling like this?'

Mai shrugged. She couldn't remember _not_ feeling like this. Hollow and aching.

'Why not take the couch?'

'He gives me the creeps,' she whispered.

Gene glanced toward the now closed office door. 'Far be it from me to advise you against listening to your _creep_-detector. But, Mai, you made enough money last night—you could get yourself a hotel room.'

Shaking her head gently, Mai leaned against the cool wall. 'Then I'd never be able to afford the key money and two month's rent on a flat. Anyway, what would be the point? I never sleep for more than two or three hours—and it's never _good_ sleep.'

'The blanket, Taniyama-san.' Mai squinted at Sister Mara. When she took the blanket from her, she had to tug a little to get her to relinquish it. _Take lessons in ventriloquism_, that would definitely be Mai's first order of business once she felt a little better. If she kept talking to Gene as though any normal person could see him… well, it wouldn't be long before she found herself locked in a padded cell.

Occupied futons covered almost every centimetre of the sleeping quarters' floor, though in the far corner there was enough room for Mai to draw her knees up and lean against the wall. The room reeked of alcohol-sweats, unwashed hair and halitosis. Gene stood amidst the harrowing scene, looking aghast and thoroughly out of place. Mai wished that she could say the same about herself.

She cradled her rucksack in her lap, conscious of the fact that it contained the night's tips. Pulling the blanket tight around her shoulders, she tried to ignore the dirty, mothballed scent. She rested her forehead on her knees and murmured: 'You won't leave me?'

'I promise,' Gene said.

'Liar,' she whispered before sinking into a heavy slumber.

…

_Midway down a wide alley, children clustered together and encircled something of great interest. They held each other, whispered, but not one cried._

_Logic told Mai to turn and walk away, but as logic rarely compelled her actions in her marathon dreams, she crept closer to the group. They were all wearing old, holey shoes, and beyond their feet, the pavement seemed to be slick with lumpy black liquid. One child crouched down and touched the pavement, and her fingers came back red._

'_How you think he done it?' the girl asked, wiping the blood off with the edge of her oversized shirt._

_Gazing over the children's heads, Mai's eyes didn't want to make sense of the chaos, but that voice in her heart said: this is what it looks like when someone explodes from the inside out._

'_Pro'ly fed the old bastard uncooked rice—I seen what it does to them pigeons. Kaboom, splash!' one boy boasted._

'_Have not,' another boy challenged._

'_Have too. Stephen did it!'_

_The children fell silent. Apparently Stephen had made pigeons explode by feeding them uncooked rice, and that was proof enough for them._

'_Stephen pro'ly did do it,' the girl said darkly, and they all knew that she was referring to the splattered human remains._

'_What do we do?' one of the smallest kids whispered._

_The older children looked at each other and shrugged. 'Let's go home,' the girl said._

'_But—'_

'_Just forget about it, Jojo,' she said, grabbing the smallest boy by the arm and tugging him back from the mess. 'We ain't doing nothing.'_

_The group turned en masse, walking past Mai and out of the alleyway—faces emotionless and eyes blank._

_Mai gazed back at the blood and chunks on the pavement. She couldn't play pretend. The partial carcass, shattered skull and dislocated limbs had definitely belonged to a human._

_Something scuffled at the far end of the alley. A plank in a tall wooden fence pushed to the side, and a gangly child in a blue hoodie crawled into the alley._

_The dream wanted Mai to stay where she was—her feet seemed to suction to the pavement—but she sucked all her willpower and fear deep into her soul and used the energy to wrench herself feel and sprint out into the street._

_The further she ran, the faster her legs carried her. And like in the fairytale The Red Shoes, Mai's shoes took over and she lost all control. She ran through laundrettes with small animals cooking inside dryers, through domestic fights, through kitchens of rotting foods._

_She covered her eyes with her hands because it no longer mattered. She had lost even the pretence of control._

'_Are you lost?'_

_Mai's shoes dropped their grip, and she collapsed to a golden wood floor. Tremors wracked her muscles, and her breath burned in her lungs._

'_You seem to have been through quite the ordeal.'_

_Blinking, Mai stared at a gentleman seated behind an old desk. At first glance he was a distinguished, stuffy sort of fellow with a well-groomed beard, silvery hair and wire-frame glasses perched on his nose. But as Mai continued to blink up at him, a more amenable expression settled into his sun-kissed face. Beneath his desk, he crossed jeans-clad legs and wiggled his toes in his sandals. At his throat he wore a puka shell necklace. His powder blue t-shirt read _Trust me, I'm a doctor.

_He hemmed, and deep laugh lines formed around his eyes. 'Can you stand?'_

_Pressing her hands into her thighs, Mai thought maybe she could stand. She placed one foot flatly on the floor and eased herself into an upright position. Though the room could not be called large, it possessed an ambience of vastness. Perhaps it was the high ceiling with elaborate crown moulding. Or maybe it was the floor-to-ceiling shelving full of books and jars and softly tufted paintbrushes. Or possibly it could be attributed to the lack of furnishings. The room only housed the desk and associated chair—and of course the man._

'_Satisfied?' he said, a smirk in his voice. 'Back to my original question, dearest girl. Are you lost?'_

_A shiver rocked her body. No one ever spoke to her during marathon dreams unless they wanted to cause trouble. Mai shook her head _no_._

_He looked her up and down. 'Do you need help?'_

_Mai shook her head again and glanced over her shoulder to locate the door she'd entered through._

_It no longer existed. There was, however, a large window with a fire escape. Mai hurried toward it, keeping the man in her peripheral vision. He watched her without moving, even when she forced the window open._

_She had one leg outside when he said: 'Be careful as you go.'_

_Mai swung the other leg over the sill and toppled into a familiar, newspaper-strewn basement floor._

_All was still for a moment, and then the boy blinked into existence._

'_We never get what we ask for, do we, Mai?' the boy asked. He leaned against the kennel, which had two new occupants despite still containing the dismembered bodies of the original three girls. The tugging of Mai's stomach told her that everything inside that cage was dead._

_Realising that the corpses held her attention, the boy kicked the cage. The sound rolled through the room like a hundred cymbals clattering to the floor, and Mai's eardrums flinched._

_The pain must have shown on her face because the boy smiled—if one could consider the compressing of the lips and the quirking of the mouth a _smile_._

'_No matter,' the boy sighed dispassionately. 'We can make do with what we have—for the time being. How's your neck, by the way?'_

_Mai gagged as something cold and wide tightened around her throat. Her hands flew upwards but they too were captured and spread wide. She lashed out with her feet as she was forcefully pulled backward and pressed against the wall. One by one the invisible bindings captured her ankles. The strap around her neck slipped upward until it cut the skin beneath her jaw. Rising onto her tiptoes to alleviate the pressure, Mai belatedly realised her mistake. The fastenings around her ankles had allowed her the movement upward, but they locked her in place. Barely balancing on her tiptoes, her knees wavered and threatened to give out. If they did, she would hang herself._

'_Just like a doll strapped to her cardboard packaging,' the boy said. 'You make a pretty damsel in distress, but the question is: how long will it take for your knight to arrive?' Something shifted in the far corner of the room. 'Because if the truth be told, you don't have much time—and I'm eager for the game to begin.'_

_Mai's right knee gave out and the strap around her neck cinched tighter. Her lungs burned and her jaw ached as though it had been dislocated._

'_Tick-tock,' the boy said._

_No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get her right leg to support her, and her left quavered with exertion. She tossed her head back and forth, attempting to shift the pressure against her throat, but the action shredded her flesh and brought both dark floaters and bursts of light into her vision._

'_Strange,' the boy said._

_The straps unravelled, and Mai collapsed to the floor. Her knees cracked with the impact. Despite the shattering agony, she couldn't draw a breath to scream._

'_We seem to be having a communication problem. Perhaps this will help,' the boy said, and then he slammed his foot into her ribs._

…

'Shut the fuck up?'

Something blunt collided with Mai's head and knocked her to the floor. One of the shelter 'guests' had thrown a shoe at her. It stank like stale nachos, and Mai forced it away with a trembling hand.

'Gene?' she whispered, unable to move from her prone position.

People whispered, moaned, shifted in the futons, but her ghostly companion did not answer. She'd been a fool to believe in him. Mai curled her body around her rucksack and wept.

The tears brought on another hacking fit, and it took a great deal of control to calm herself and remain still. Minutes crept by like hours, and though her eyes burned, Mai fixed them straight ahead and refused to so much as blink for fear that she'd fall asleep again.

The sleeve of a black jacket and a well-sculpted hand passed in front of her vision. 'Mai? Are you awake?'

'Why did you leave me?' Mai whispered. Even the small sound raked her throat.

Gene sat down beside her and shrugged as though the answer were obvious. 'You've been sleeping for almost eight hours.'

Mai wouldn't make that mistake again. It seemed the longer she slept the more likely it was that she'd end up in the kennel room. She touched her neck and jaw—both felt intact—and though her ribs ached, she couldn't tell if it was the after effect of too much coughing or of Kennel Boy's merciless attack.

'How are you feeling?' Gene asked.

Shouldn't he already know? Why hadn't he shown himself in her dream? Why hadn't he charged in and saved her? Charged in like her knight in shining armour!

Mai covered her eyes with her hands.

_That's what Kennel Boy wanted_. He'd been waiting for _her knight_ to show up. He wanted Gene.

...

'I found it over here,' Gene said, leading Mai through an alley near an auction house. Call her crazy, but she wasn't exactly comfortable with wandering into isolated locales during the last moments of daylight. The hairs on her nape stood erect.

A shadow, large and low, darted between two dumpsters. For some reason it make her think of glowing red eyes. Fear shocked Mai's body, sending her tumbling over a broken bicycle.

'What are you doing?' Gene asked, Naru-esque impatience tingeing his voice. Wandering through abandon alleys clearly did not faze him. Only natural, Mai guessed, since he was already dead.

That wasn't nice of her to think. Mai grumbled and yanked the heel of her ankle boot out of the debris. 'This better be good,' she grumbled. When she steadied herself, she realised that the heel guard had snapped off of her right boot and she now stood on the heel's nail. The mismatched height created a rather lopsided gait. 'Really really good,' Mai grumbled, capping her bare elbows with her palms and shivering.

'You should wear more clothing,' Gene said. 'Aren't your legs cold?'

'Nag, nag.' Her shorts were, well, _short_, and the florescent fishnets that she wore underneath didn't provide any warmth. Impending winter tinged the early evening air.

'Do you really worry about zombies?' Gene asked, referring to her t-shirt's slogan.

'Doesn't everyone? There's a real pandemic nowadays.'

Gene chuckled. 'I'm glad that you can maintain your sense of humour.'

Mai shrugged. So long as she occasionally smiled, Gene didn't appear suspicious of her pensive expression. For the past hour, she'd been oscillating in her decision—should she tell Gene about Kennel Boy and her suspicion that Gene was his target? Or was it better to stay quiet? If she told Gene, he'd certainly show up in her next dream, and that was exactly what Kennel Boy wanted. The more she thought about it, the more confident she became in the choice to remain silent about the incident.

'I scoped this neighbourhood while you were sleeping—did you know there is a cemetery behind Saint Giles? Anyway, I found what you need, and here it is,' Gene said, pointing into the shadows between two overflowing bins.

Mai squatted down to get a better look. A greasy rag partially covered rhinestone-studded mobile phone.

'Does it have a sim card?' Gene asked.

Mai popped open the mobile's back and pulled out the battery. 'No,' she said, reassembling it. 'I suppose we can still take it to the police. Someone'll be looking for it.'

'That's doubtful,' Gene said. 'Put it to your ear.'

Confused, Mai did as he directed.

Gene curled under his middle fingers, held his thumb to his ear and his pinkie to his mouth. 'Mushi-mushi, Mai-chan.'

Comprehension dragged an honest smile across half Mai's face. 'Hello, Cricket-chi,' she said into the mobile.

'Gene,' he corrected, still holding his hand to his face.

'Yeah, yeah, Cricket-chi,' she said. 'So this is your plan—this is how we'll converse in public? I'll pretend to be talking to you on the phone?'

'Bingo,' Gene said, seeming rather proud of himself. 'This way people won't think that you're crazy. You won't get kicked out of the shelter, and you won't have to sleep rough.'

Mai felt guilty about taking the mobile, but she supposed Gene was right. Two buttons were missing from the keypad and the screen was cracked. No one would want it back. And he had gone to a lot of effort to find it for her. 'Thank you.'

'What's a friend for, eh?' he said, smiling.

She definitely couldn't tell him about the dream.

…

'Hold out your hands,' Aoi directed, and Mai obeyed. She dropped a fistful of pills into Mai's outstretched hand, and into the other she shoved a pint glass filled with a toxic-looking liquid.

Taken aback, Mai tried to return everything to the older woman. 'I don't do drugs.'

'Good to know I won't to have to fire you on that account,' Aoi said. 'You're holding three non-drowsy flu capsules, an iron supplement, a one-a-day multi-vitamin, and a mint—because your breath is less than pleasant. And that's a pint of energy drink. Get it down your neck.'

Mai obediently swallowed the pills and sipped the energy drink. It tasted thick and artificial, like a melted orange popsicle. Aoi watched her with narrowed eyes; so, Mai guzzled the foul liquid and tried to not gag. When she finished it, she wobbled over to the Gin Knockers staff cupboards to hang up her rucksack.

'Why are you walking like that?' Aoi asked.

Mai wondered when the older woman would get fed up with Mai's continual fashion tragedies. 'I broke one of my heels,' she admitted.

'Accidentally sexy. How could I expect anything else from you, Taniyama-chan? Well, your gait is very Marilyn Monroe. That's how she did it too. She wore heels with mismatched heights. Just don't break your ankle, okay?'

'Sexy?' Mai doubted that possibility. She glanced toward Gene to share in her mystification, but the handsome ghost wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

Flushed and flustered, Mai fumbled with the strings of her apron. Unable to tie the knot herself, Aoi spun her around and took care of the problem. 'You've got fifteen minutes to perk up and get behind the centre bar,' she said before chasing after another staff member.

By the time Mai made it behind the centre bar, the pills and energy drink were taking effect. Her body still ached, but overall she thought she could manage—she didn't have much of a choice in the matter anyway.

'Back for round two?' one of the barmaids asked, shoving a box of straws into Mai's hands. 'The first night is always confusing and goes by in a haze. It's the second night that's the real test. The name's Mignon. Like the beef fillet No –_san, _no –_chan_, no –_Senpai_. Just plain old Mignon. And if you don't like the fact that I haven't Japan-o-fied my name—get over it. If you moved to France I wouldn't expect you to change your name to Marie. _Comprendre_?'

'Mignon?' Mai repeated.

'You got it, kiddo. Welcome to the team.'

As Mai set about her station check and opening procedures several other colleagues approached her and introduced themselves. They each offered her a slice of advice. _Don't strain your voice to ask for next orders, just touch a finger to the back of your ear. Only smile for every third customer, or else your face will ache by the end of the night. The bottle opener with the purple top worked better than the others. Keep an energy drink hidden behind the till. There'd be a run on tall cocktails tonight, so Mai should keep her bucket of crushed ice extra full._

Though the advice did help, Mai was already flagging by midnight. She took a quick break to swig another energy drink. It gave her a jolt, but it never lasted more than twenty minutes. She wondered if she were going to sweat neon orange.

'You should change to drinking water,' Gene said. 'Nothing that colour could be good for you.' He'd been sitting among the cocktail garnishes again.

Mai shook her head—water wasn't going to cut it—and she wobbled back toward the bar.

Bobbing her head to the music, Mignon reached in front of Mai and swept empty glasses off the bar. 'You aren't pacing yourself,' she shouted over the music. 'Each customer will get served in the end, so there's no point killing yourself.' She shoulder-bumped Mai. 'Take a look at everyone else.'

Wiping perspiration from her brow, Mai glanced at her colleagues. They seemed in continual motion, a machine working in perfect unison.

'No one ever moves any faster than the beat of the music,' Mignon said.

Mai had made some rather negative assumptions about the barmaids that sort of _danced_ while serving, but with closer inspection she realised that everyone—even the head barman—paced their movements to the beat of the music. Whether they wiggled their hips, nodded their heads or merely measured their strides.

'You look like a musically in-tune girl, so don't hold back,' Mignon advised before bouncing off to serve her next customer.

Mai liked music just as much as the next person, but she'd never danced much, and her musical taste was the result of her parents, rather than her friends. The only memories that she had of her father involved him coaxing lonely tunes from a slide guitar, and whenever Mai thought of her mom boogieing around the tea shop where she worked, it was to Japanese covers of American country music songs. Gin Knockers was her first experience with trance, techno and neo-acid rock music. When the hip-hop DJs took the turntables, she recognised a few more songs, but they were always remixed, and Mai'd force them to the back of her mind as though they were nothing more than white noise.

Gathering the glasses for her next order, Mai tentatively rocked her knees to the beat of the music: a popular song remixed with a techno rhythm and layered with samples from a 70s Motown group. Thinking that she must look like an idiot, she glanced over at Gene to get his opinion.

After a bit of pacing, Gene had settled down on the counter beside a bowl of pink sugar crystals, his legs crossed, his elbow on his knee, and his chin cupped in his palm. His lowered eyes and slight frown were decidedly _Naru_-esque. He seemed pensive—and Mai couldn't blame him. He was supposed to be enjoying his afterlife, not stuck sitting amongst cocktail umbrellas and lemon wedges. To top it off, some psychotic Kennel Boy wanted to hurt him.

Mai wiped her shaking hands on a tea cloth.

Perhaps she needed to ring Naru. He'd know what to do to keep Gene safe.

But Naru would be mad. Last time Naru had said that Gene's tendency to _act first and think later _had brought on the spirit walking, but this time it was undeniably _Mai's fault_. Gene was here because of her. Gene was in danger because of her. And wouldn't it hurt Naru to know that his brother still was not at rest? She couldn't tell him something like that—especially not over the phone. It would be better do deal with things on her own, protecting both boys, and then she'd find a way to send Gene back to heaven or wherever it was that good people went after death.

Gene looked up from where he'd been focusing on empty space.

Mai tried to do a cheeky little dance, and he laughed.

She just had to be strong.

…

'That Aoi-san is growing on me,' Gene said.

Mai yawned and leaned against the subway handrail. She'd managed to get a seat—a rare and valued occurrence during the morning commute—and she was now having difficulty keeping her eyes from slipping shut. The last course of pills that Aoi'd given her had been a different colour, and only now it occurred to Mai that they might not have been the non-drowsy kind.

Fumbling with her rucksack, she pulled out the rhinestone-studded mobile phone. Glancing at the other passengers of the crowded train, she pressed the mobile to her ear. 'I'm going to fall asleep,' she whispered.

'It's another four stops until Saint Giles,' Gene said dismissively, craning his head so that he could read the newspaper over the shoulder of a passenger.

'You don't understand.' Her hand felt numb from the effort of holding the mobile. 'You need to wake me up. _Cricket-chi_….'

…

_The kennel room was empty—as it usually was when she arrived—but today there was a door on the far wall. Thick with peeling paint and set into a stone doorframe, the door could open into a million nightmares—and Mai would take any and all of them to escape the inevitable._

_Scrambling across the room, she fought with the deadbolt until it gave a rusty screech and slid back. Mai took two steadying breaths before wrenching the door open to a rubbish-laden landing and sea of thick fog._

'_Sorry I'm late, I had a meeting.' Kennel Boy scurried out from behind several corroded trash barrels. He carried a length of rope and a brick. 'Now where were we? Oh I remember. __In the past you didn't try very hard, so we're going to go a little old-school today. Don't hold back. Make yourself heard. I want you to scream with everything you've got—your voice and your mind.'_

_Mai stared into Kennel Boy's eyes and resolved to remain silent. No matter what._


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

'Did you have a vision?' Gene asked, kneeling in front of her.

Mai held her hands up to her face and counted all ten digits. 'I can't feel my fingers,' she said, not caring that she was in public and speaking directly to Gene without the excuse of the mobile phone. Luckily the only other occupants of the subway car sat at the other end and wore headphones.

'You wouldn't respond. I tried everything to wake you up, but you just _collapsed_. Tell me what you saw.'

'_I can't feel my fingers_.'

Gene sighed and gave the illusion of placing a comforting hand on Mai's knee, though he couldn't actually touch her. 'It's a common side effect of psychometric visions. If you were seeing the dream from the point of view of someone whose fingers were injured than it stands to reason that your own fingers will go numb. It's only temporary. Noll had this problem too, before he learned to control the visions and wake himself up before injury.'

'Naru?'

'It'll be fine, Mai.' His face hardened with resolve. 'Rules be damned, I will help you gain some control.' His words were absolute, forthright, and heavily tinged with naivety. If Gene felt any trepidation regarding his abilities as Mai's guardian, it did not show.

'I don't want to sleep again,' she whimpered. She never wanted to sleep again. She'd never experience anything so horrific. During the case at Urado's mansion—when she dreamed of having her neck slit open by the vampirical murderer—at least it had only happened once, at least the outcome had been definitive. A blade ran across her throat, she died, and then she woke up. The kennel dreams wouldn't ever stop. The boy was like a pint-sized _Freddy Krueger_, and Mai suspected that, like the classic movie villain, denying his existence, sprinkling him with holy water, shoving a pipe bomb through his chest and decapitating him would have no effect whatsoever. 'I'm scared.'

'Fear will only make things worse.' Gene sat down beside her, but she couldn't look away from her deadened hands. 'It will be okay.'

True to Gene's words, feeling slowly returned to Mai's fingers. They felt as though a thousand tiny needles burrowed beneath her skin, but she could wiggle them and eventually she mustered enough dexterity to take out her PASMO card. Mai didn't know how many times the subway had worked and reworked its route, but it wasn't long before the stop for Saint Giles came around again.

'Let's return to the shelter. You can get something to eat and have another nap before we start lessons,' Gene said as they came out of the station.

Climbing the stairs to the street had Mai breathing heavily with exertion and therefore prompted a substantial hacking fit. Mai'd never felt so defeated. It wasn't fair. The night had gone so well, if she disregarded the fact that she'd felt rubbish and was paranoid that Gene would figure out her secret. She'd made good tips again, Fujiwara-san hadn't shown his face, and Mignon and the other barstaff had been welcoming and helpful. Why did she have to end up in the kennel room again? Why couldn't she have normal dreams about fluffy bunnies and vacations in Tonga and making tea for her narcissistic ex-boss? Why did she have to have cramps shredding through her abdomen? What had she done to warrant all this bad karma? She wished someone would _just tell her_—if she knew what she'd done, she would bow and apologise and rectify the problem…. Someone just needed to tell her. She shakily held the mobile phone to her ear. 'I don't want to sleep. I don't want to go to the shelter.'

'Don't be stubborn. You need to sleep,' Gene said. 'Do it for me?'

'I don't want to go back there!' To neither the grotty shelter nor the hideous kennel room dreamscape.

Her outburst drew quite a few stares, including one belonging to Gene, and Mai wished that she had her mop of hair back—that way she could hide most of her face from view.

Gene dipped his head so that he could look into Mai's down-turned face. 'Where do we go then? What do you want—'

'I want a mocha and I want a chocolate croissant and I want one of those armchairs that always look so comfy, but once you've sunk into it, it's almost impossible to get out again and you can barely reach your drink on the coffee table. I don't want the upright stools of Doutor Coffee. I don't want to kneel in some traditional tea shop.' Mai clenched her fist around the mobile. 'I want _Starbucks_.'

'Have you ever pouted like this in front of Noll?'

Snivelling, Mai shook her head.

'Try it sometime.'

Mai held the mobile phone away from her ear and spoke into the mouthpiece, enunciating each word: 'I am never going to see your brother again, so I wish you would shut up.'

'That's not true, Mai.'

'He's never coming back to Japan.' Mai scrubbed the tears from her eyes and unattractively sucked in the mucus from her runny nose. She was pathetic—and pathetic was the last thing on Earth that she, _Taniyama Mai_, ever wanted to be.

Gene must've thought the same because he had turned away. Standing with his hands stuffed in his pocket and his back slightly hunched, he seemed to be talking to himself.

'I can't understand what you're saying. You're mumbling.'

'Let's find us a Starbucks,' Gene said, turning back to her. His face was as expressionless as Naru's. 'Let's spend a little of your hard earned cash and wipe that grumbling, pouting—but somehow still cute—expression off of your face.'

'Fine.'

Gene seemed taken aback by Mai's lack of resistance. 'Fine?'

She needed to keep herself collected. She couldn't stand in the middle of a busy sidewalk for the rest of the day. Anyway, she hadn't partaken in the luxury of café culture since well before the fire. If there was one secret she'd absolutely take to the grave with her, it was that she'd been mixing _instant_ hot chocolate and _instant_ coffee at home to get her mocha fix. Such actions could be compared to a drunkard consuming perfume when no alcoholic beverages were available. Shameful. Toxic.

Mai channelled all her fear, all her exhaustion and pains, and all her general frustration with life into a thoroughly grouchy disposition. She had a right, didn't she? She'd just spent who knows long in a dream where a boy repeatedly slammed bricks into her fingers, and for the past week she'd felt like she was about to hack up a wet kitten, and now she had cramps. 'I want a Starbucks mocha and a chocolate croissant. And a Kit Kat Azuki chocolate bar. Or maybe a Kit Kat Wa Guri. No a Kit Kat Cacao. All three.'

Gene groaned. 'I'm not running out to the pharmacy to pick up tampons and Midol.'

'You would if you were corporeal,' she said.

'I've never been so glad to lack total substance.'

'At least you admit it, Cricket-chi.'

…

Mai's plan to lounge in Starbucks all afternoon was foiled by a horde of women with prams. The café appeared to be hosting some sort of baby convention, and not even a stool at the window bar was available to perch on. Though she supposed that she could wander down another block and try the next branch, or even pop across the street to Doutor, Mai couldn't be bothered with the extra effort. Instead she bought her chocolate feast—including the three Kit Kat bars—and took her picnic to a nearby park.

Slinging her rucksack onto the ground, she made herself comfortable on a large tyre swing. It had rained during the night, and damp seeped through her torn jeans. The gloomy weather had chased away any other playground occupants.

'So teach me something,' Mai said, warming her fingers around her mocha cup. 'Teach me how to wake myself up from my dreams.'

Gene leaned against a climbing frame shaped like Tokyo Tower. 'That's just a matter of keeping focused. It will come with practice.'

She didn't have _time_ to practice, and Gene's blasé tone irked her. 'You've never had to wake yourself up from a vision, have you?'

Gene scrubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. 'Well, it is kind of hard to wake yourself up when you're dead. I do, however, know a fair amount about manoeuvring through the ether. It takes a great deal of focus, or else you'll become like a plastic bag caught in an updraft. You'll have no control where you go. From what I can tell, your visions are quite the same. But you are right.' He nodded in defeat. 'Visions were _Noll_'s specialty.'

'So what's _your_ specialty?'

'Exorcisms and energy manipulation.'

'I already know how to use defensive sutras, and Bou-san—'

'The Shinto Kuji incantation and the mantras that Bou-san taught you—they are weapons. You need shields.'

'Like Lin-san's shikigami?'

'You're not an Onmyouji. Summoning demon familiars is out of your league—'

'So do you mean writing and using protective charms—'

'If you'll stop trying to _guess_ and let me explain, we might get through the introductory lesson before it gets dark,' Gene snapped, and when Mai just sipped her mocha, he continued, 'I'm going to assume that you know nothing about visualisation, energy manipulation, and shielding.'

Mai nodded.

Making himself more comfortable against the climbing frame, he said, 'All living organisms are essentially energy-systems….' And then he slipped into a very long and complex explanation, tossing around terms like _flow_, _psychic wholeness_ and _etheric-to-physical interface_. Mai'd always thought of Naru as being the _genius brother_, but it quickly became clear that Gene was no slouch when it came to the academics of his psychic abilities.

From the jibber-jabber Gene spouted—and some of it truly was nonsense to Mai, as he kept referencing neuroscientists that she'd never heard of—Mai deciphered several things.

One, everyone conducts energy. That made sense to her. Wasn't living-energy something warm, and therefore the opposite of living-energy—dead-energy, she supposed—was a cold void and wasn't that what SPR's thermal cameras picked up on?

Two, the most powerful tools a human possesses are the brain and the ability to imagine. _To visualise_. The neurons in the brain fire off bursts of energy all the time—that's what thinking, functioning, _living_ was—but people with more refined psychic ability could further manipulate the body's natural energy. Including their chi and aura. This innate ability could manifest in many different ways—psychokinesis, telepathy, remote cognition, and shielding.

Three, shielding meant imagining your energy into the shape and substance of a shield. Gene kept on saying _visualise_, and it reminded Mai of a theatre class that she'd taken where the instructor yelled at her for not _visualising_ herself into character enough. She hadn't _believed_ enough. Mai hoped that wouldn't be a problem in the future.

Four, keeping a shield charged sounded really exhausting.

Five, Bou-san and Ayako's incantations were a method of energy focusing, but the force behind the focuses couldn't be sustained for long. Gene preferred shields.

The sixth and final thing that she gleaned from the three hours of constant listening was that Gene got really excited when he lectured about energy.

'Any questions?' he asked.

Mouth slightly agape and staring at him incredulously, Mai struggled to formulate all her questions into an intelligent and applicable query. 'So… if I were to make a shield in my dream, could I use it to exorcise an evil spirit?'

Gene frowned. 'Were you even listening to me?'

'Excuse me for going into information overload,' Mai said. 'I just want a practical answer, okay? No more "etheric-to-physical interface". Could you _visualise_ for me that a big-baddy _something_ weaselled its way into my _visions_? Now, if I wanted to protect myself from it—if I wanted to make it _go away_—could I exorcise it with this energy manipulation thing?'

Gene grew unnaturally still. 'A big-baddy _spirit_?'

Mai shrugged. She hadn't a clue what to call Kennel Boy—he had legs, so he wasn't a yurei—but he certainly did qualify for the label _evil_. 'Yeah, a spirit. A ghost.'

'It is very unusual for a spirit or ghost to actively participate in the dreamscape.'

'You did.'

'I'm special,' he said in a tone true to his twin. 'Most of the _people_ that you see in your visions are merely _residuals_. They are acting out intensely emotional evens in their lives.'

'I know residuals.' She wasn't a complete novice. 'I'm talking about getting rid of an _active_ spirit.'

'Having a spirit proactively enter and participate in your dreamscape is highly unusual—yes, I know. I did it, but I had very little control over when I was allowed access to your dreams.'

'Hypothetically speaking,' Mai held her hand out to interrupt, 'if a spirit managed to get into my dreams, how would I get rid of it? Simple question.'

'Not really,' he said, matching her slightly testy tone. 'First I must know if the spirit is entering your dreams through possession. In this case the spirit would remain physically close to you, and it would require you to exorcise the spirit whilst awake.' He raised an eyebrow and waited for Mai to process that bit of information.

She doubted that was how Kennel Boy was accessing her dreams—after all, if she had an eight-year-old ghost trailing behind her while awake, wouldn't Gene have noticed? She gestured for Gene to continue his explanations.

'The other option is more similar to my… former situation. It could be a powerful spirit—probably a strong psychic during life—that has become lost in the ether. It may have learned to recognise you and piggyback into your dreamscapes, and if this spirit has been lost in the ether for an extensive amount of time, it may have started to go mad. No different from an earthbound spirit, actually.'

Kennel Boy was certainly crazy. 'So how would one get rid of it? Would I have to locate its body—like Naru did with you?' Gene flinched, and while Mai did feel a tinge of guilt, she needed answers. 'Or can I just exorcise it?'

'An exorcism would require names, birth and death dates, body location—'

'And the other option?'

'Give it what it wants and hope it moves on.'

'Okay, not an option. So exorcism—'

'You are not trained for this sort of thing. Even Lin would have difficulty, and there are no guarantees—'

'Okay, next best option. How would I get away from it in the dreamscape?'

'_Hypothetically_, because we are talking hypothetically, right?' he asked, eyebrow raised, but barely paused for Mai's answer. 'There is a technique of energy spinning and releasing that could force the evil entity back—or better yet, use a spin and release technique to propel yourself from one dream to the next until you can wake yourself up—'

'How do you spin and release?'

Gene stared skyward as though searching for patience. 'Do you know Newton's Laws of Motion?'

'Is it anything like Murphy's Law? Because I know all about Murphy's Law.'

Gene chuckled. '_If anything can go wrong, it will_. Yes, you'd probably qualify for a PhD in Murphy's Law. But no, Newton's Laws of Motion are something rather different. If you put a particle in motion—'

'Stop! No particles. I need physical explanations. Tangible. Don't talk to me about theory. How do I spin and release energy? What does it feel like?'

Gene closed his eyes and massaged his temples. 'Spinning is like making a fist and cocking it back. Releasing is throwing the punch. If you spin and release on your own, the force of your punch is limited to the amount of energy and time you have to spin. For real power, you make it a communal exercise. You have a partner, and you toss the energy back and forth—like playing catch. You start out throwing underhand but every time you return the seed of energy, you throw a little harder, and in the end, one of you releases the energy ball outward at a target. Yeah, it's like playing catch.'

Gene stared into the distance for a long while, and Mai tried to make sense of this new explanation. 'Can we play catch?' she asked.

He smiled miserably. 'I can't play catch anymore, Mai. My energy is different from living people.'

'So why are you describing it to me? If we're not going to play energy catch, if that's not a power that I'll be able to exercise, I'd rather not know about it. I'd rather concentrate on things that I can do. I already feel inept as it is.'

'Fair enough,' he said. He leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. 'I know none of this has been _hypothetical_ for you. You aren't a very good liar. And I'll do anything that I can to help you out. But I need you to answer this question very truthfully.' He wet his lips and seemed to struggled with getting his next words out. 'Are you absolutely certain that you are dealing with a _ghost_? Is that what your inner voice is telling you?'

Mai shut her eyes and pressed a hand over her heart. Was Kennel Boy a ghost? Was he the soul of someone's dearly departed? Had he been human once upon a time? _Yes. _'Yes.'

Gene nodded. 'Okay.' His smile was brittle, and Mai couldn't make up her mind if Kennel Boy being a ghost was a good or a bad thing. Gene was quite obviously of a mixed option, but before she could ask anything else, he stood and pretended to brush lint from his trousers, 'I've given you a lot to process already. Why don't we take a break? You have a few hours before work. Do you want to go back to Saint Giles and take a nap?'

'Absolutely not.' She'd clearly not made her situation clear to him—but maybe that was a good thing. This way he wouldn't be tempted to come charging into her dreams and straight into Kennel Boy's trap.

Gene pinned her with a withered glare, but for once he didn't argue. Perhaps his throat hurt from all that talking.

'I want another mocha,' Mai said, throwing away her empty paper cup.

'Eh? Big spender today,' he said.

'Don't you know better than to mess with a girl who's suffering from PMT?'

…

Mai's second trip to Starbucks proved more successful. She arrived during a momentary lull. The mothers with prams made an exit _en mass_, and Mai duck into the queue before a swarm of grade school kids burst through the doors. Taking her mocha upstairs, she even managed to snag one of the comfy chairs positioned in the large window that overlooked the Shibuya Station pedestrian crossing scramble. Even from the distance, the hustle and bustle of central Tokyo grated on Mai, and she missed the homely and mellow suburban attitudes that she'd enjoyed as a child. She missed having her own space to which she could return daily and lock out the noise and prying eyes. Savouring her first sip of mocha, she resolved to never again take for granted having a sanctuary.

Gene sat opposite her in companionable silence. When they'd arrived, he'd asked her to spread a few English-language tourist brochures out on their table for his reading pleasure. Questions about Gene's lesson on shielding, exorcisms and energy manipulation kept occurring to Mai, but when she sneaked looks up at the handsome ghost, his pensive expression kept her from breaking the peace. Whatever he was puzzling over, he wasn't willing to share.

Even as she dealt with her perplexity regarding _visualisation _and_ flow_, something about her dreams kept on niggling at the back of her mind.

After gritting her teeth for several long minutes, Mai pulled out the mobile phone and pressed it to her ear. 'Can I ask you something? When I fell asleep in the subway… did I scream?'

'No.'

Mai sighed with momentary relief—at least she could keep herself from screaming aloud, even if she couldn't do the same within the dreamscape. But she soon returned to her teeth grinding. 'If I had screamed, you would've known something was wrong, right? You would have come and found me in my dreams.'

Gene shook his head. 'I can't dream walk anymore. That was the trade off. I can be here, but dreamscapes and the ether are off limits. There's no way for me to get into them unassisted.'

Then he was safe. Safe from Kennel Boy. No matter what Kennel Boy did to Mai in her dreams, Gene couldn't be summoned to her side. 'Why—'

'Would you mind turning this over?' Gene gestured to the brochure.

Clearly his new earthly-state was not something he wanted to speak about. She could respect that—after all, it wasn't like she was telling him anything much about Kennel Boy. Of course she had his own good interest in mind, but….

Mai shrugged to herself and flipped the brochure over. It appeared to be something about Tokyo museums. Perhaps Gene never had the opportunity to play tourist in Japan before he died. She'd have to make sure to take him around the city once she was feeling better—after all, it would be a good way to distract from her ongoing exhaustion.

'What's your opinion on modern sculpture?' he asked.

Mai blinked for a moment. Sculpture? Okay, she could embrace the new conversation. Anything to not think about Kennel Boy. 'I've never really thought much about modern sculpture. Is it something you're interested in?' She'd never pegged him for an artsy-guy, but most of her assumptions were probably unfairly made based on her knowledge of Naru. For all Mai knew, Gene could be a gifted potter or maybe he made woodcarvings with chainsaws.

'Yeah,' he said unconvincingly. 'I mean, there's this exhibition—it's free from 4pm to 5pm, and I thought it might be a good place… to visit. Before you go to work one afternoon. And there's this place, too.' He pointed to a different brochure. 'They specialise in new artists….'

'And you'd like to play tourist?'

Gene looked guilty.

'That's okay,' she said. 'It isn't like I've got anything better to do.'

'Except sleep.'

'I said _better.'_

'I think you should tell me more about these dreams—unless you're dreaming about Noll's boxer-briefs?' Gene joked, and Mai flushed at the _thought_ of thinking about Naru's underwear. 'That's a bit perverted, don't you think?'

'I'm not dreaming about Naru's underwear,' Mai hissed. 'Sometimes you are such a _teenage boy.'_

'And your point is…?' Gene got partway into a smile before his eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. 'So what are you dreaming about?'

Mai sighed. Gene couldn't cross into her dreams, so she supposed she could be a little more forthright in her discussions—after all he possessed a wealth of knowledge that might help her conquer Kennel Boy—but all the same, she didn't want to upset her ghostly companion. Mai bit her lip before blurting out, 'A child, a dog kennel and a brick.'

'A kennel?' Gene looked away, staring blindly out the window. 'With a dog?'

Mai laughed nervously. 'No dog. Just a kennel.' And the three corpses stuffed inside.

'And the child—does she speak to you? What does she look like? Is she Japanese?'

'Yes, _he's_ Japanese,' she answered. At least Kennel Boy spoke Japanese—after all, if he didn't speak Japanese than how could she understand him? Clenching her eyes, she tried to bring up a mental picture of him.

And failed. If asked to draw a picture of him, it would resemble a short stick figure wearing a hoodie and a tooth necklace. Was he Japanese? Or was he of some other heritage?

Well, clearly he was something else—something that bordered on downright demonic. But still Mai's brain throbbed with the effort to recall even the shade of his hair, the cut, the shape of his face.

He was eight years old. Somehow she was absolutely certain of that. Eight. Or at least the form that he inhabited was eight.

Mai rapped her fist against her head in frustration.

'Where is the dream set?'

'In a basement room.' A creepy room with narrow, high windows and hooks in the ceiling. 'And once there was a blur-faced man butchering a woman.'

Relief washed over Gene's face—not the normal expression one would have at hearing about a person being butchered, but she supposed dead is dead to the dead. Still….

Her gaze flitted to the digital clock that flashed on one of the large screens that plastered the buildings around the Shibuya intersection. 'It's so late! I have to get dressed.' Mai gulped down the cold dregs of her mocha before snatching up her rucksack. 'I'm going to use the ladies room here to wash up—so don't follow me.'

'We need to finish discussing this dream,' Gene said.

'Yeah, tomorrow for sure,' she said dismissively before hurrying away. In the ladies room, she cleaned up and changed—all the while she mentally went over everything Gene had taught her that day.

By the time she tugged on her skirt-belt and vest-top work attire, Gene was waiting for her just outside the toilet. If he were corporeal, he would've collided with Mai and knocked her off her feet.

Mai already had the mobile to her ear. 'When you visualise a shield, you mentioned that you make it in layers of different substances—I don't get that. Why not just make one really thick, really hard wall?' she asked.

The question easily distracted Gene from further enquiries into her dreams. For the entire commute to Gin Knockers, he lectured on the effects of varying shield textures and shapes, on complex combinations, and on refracting harmful energy attacks. Though she'd initially meant to use his enthusiasm as a distraction, Mai found herself imagining the different substances that she could use in her own shield. Gene suggested combining layers of carbonised metal, dense sponge and even static sounds. He said to select layers with strong emotional links. Mai thought she might try bullet-proof glass, Kevlar, boulders, steel-wool, great big spears, and a continually flowing layer of her personal blend of Earl Grey tea—made with Sencha instead of the traditional Ceylon-base, and including fresh lemon peel, oven-roasted orange blossoms, and the best bergamot oil that her wages could afford. And steeped in 80°C filtered water for exactly one minute and fourteen seconds.


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

'Awesome!' Mignon shouted over the thrumming music. Mai—who never dropped more than one glass a night—had already dropped _eight_ and a bottle of Polish vodka. It was only two a.m. She reached down to pick up the shards of glass, but Mignon beat her to it with a dustpan and broom. 'Don't worry. Day three is always _the worst_. It's a rite of passage. If you don't quit or get fired tonight, then you automatically are admitted into Club Centre Bar. Keep up the good work.'

'How many glasses is that tonight, Taniyama-chan?'

Mai stood abruptly and spun around to face Aoi, and in the process, her elbow collided with a tray of utensils and the contents clattered to the ground.

The head barman howled, and at first Mai panicked, thinking that one of the bottle openers had stabbed him in the foot. But then he turned his face in her direction and seemed to be laughing. 'She's got the Day Three Curse, Aoi-san!'

Aoi grabbed Mai by the crook of her arm and hauled her through to the back of house. Mai'd never been fired before, but in the movies people sometimes got physically _thrown_ out into the alleyway. If Aoi threw her into the night, Mai doubted that she'd be able to peel herself off the pavement.

Mai's foot caught on something, and she stumbled as Aoi changed directions and dragged her into the kitchen rather than the back entryway. Gene trailed behind them, seeming unsure as to he could do to help. Barely avoiding a collision with several prep cooks, they wove their way into the dishwashing alcove.

Fujiwara-san stood waiting for them. 'What you've broken, it'll be coming out of your wages! It was a mistake letting Aoi put you on the centre bar—'

'She's got the Day Three Curse,' Aoi interrupted, stepping in front of Mai. 'Everyone on the centre bar has suffered it. Give her a break.'

'No. She's costing me money, and I've had a client asking for her—'

'She's Ouji-san's favourite barmaid!' Aoi shouted in a final, desperate thrust of defence.

Fujiwara-san started to say something more but stopped himself. 'One more chance. One more. But if you put your foot out of line….'

'I'll quit,' Mai hissed.

Fujiwara-san laughed, strained and falsetto. 'Where else are you going to make tips like this? Another club? One word from me and no one will hire you. And we all know that you _need_ the money. You're better off working for me than selling yourself to the yakuza.'

'That's enough,' Aoi said. 'Taniyama-chan gets one more chance—you said it. Leave the girl alone.'

Fujiwara-san straightened his jacket. 'Than I will continue to disappoint my client for a little longer. Soon, though. Soon,' he said, and then he sauntered out of the alcove.

'Who's Ouji-san?' Gene asked, watching Fujiwara-san harass kitchen staff before finally departing.

'I don't know who Ouji-san is,' Mai said.

'I believe you call him _Captain_-san. Though I have no idea _why._' Aoi slowly turned to face Mai.

Mai touched her hand to her face. 'Because he wears the eye-patch, like a pirate captain,' she whispered, feeling a little foolish.

'Huh, so that explains it,' Aoi mused almost to herself. 'He started wearing that patch as some kind of cosplay joke—probably on the first night you served him. You called him _Captain-san_, and he's worn the patch ever since.' She sighed, shaking her head in bafflement. 'Anyway, you probably should know that your '_Captain-san_' is one of Gin Knockers' silent partners—though he doesn't support Fujiwara's side-enterprise.'

Mai had never imagined that her favourite customer—the man whose tips kept her alive and free—was actually one of the owners. 'I… I…'

'You didn't know. We all know that you didn't know. Ouji-san likes it like that, so just forget that I ever told you about it.' Aoi gestured around the alcove. 'Now, I'm parking you in here for the rest of the night. Think you can manage to wash and dry dishes without breaking them all?'

'Yes.'

'Good. Don't disappoint me.' Frowning, she placed a hand on Mai's head. 'You're still a bit warm. Are you taking the medication I gave you?'

Mai nodded, pulling out a pack of tablets from her apron pocket.

'If you aren't better tomorrow, you need to see a doctor.' Aoi ruffled Mai's hair. 'And you need a trim.'

Mai blushed and looked away. She'd been planning to grow it out.

'You don't like the style?'

'No, Aoi-san! It's…. You're too nice to me.'

'Idiot thinking like that is why you're always getting into trouble,' Aoi sighed. '_A doctor, _tomorrow, Taniyama-chan. Now start washing those dishes, and don't break anything.'

Mai grabbed an empty dish rack and set to work.

'I'm really starting to like that Aoi-san,' Gene said.

Twisting around to throw him an exasperated look, Mai nearly dropped a stack of bowls. '_I am cursed_,' she groaned.

The cupboard door at the far end of the alcove squeaked open. 'You, me and my brother.' A pair of long, bare legs eased onto the floor, and then Kiki slowly uncurled from the cramped space. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her lipstick was smeared. 'We're all cursed, Taniyama-chan. Is Fujiwara gone?' She slurred ever so slightly.

Mai glanced toward the kitchen and didn't see the horrid man. Gene nodded in agreement.

'He's gone. How long have you been hiding in there?'

She pulled out a half-empty bottle of vodka. 'I don't know. What time is it?'

'Half two, I think. No later.'

Kiki nodded. 'Not long enough. _That man_ will still be here. If you think Fujiwara is bad, you've never met _him_.' She took a swig from the vodka bottle and swished the liquid around like mouthwash. 'I'm sure you've _seen_ _him_, though. Total Anglophile, looks okay from a distance, tall, good body—but a face like a bloated fish.' Face twisted with disgust, she tried to suck her cheeks in to make guppy lips. 'And he has this way of looking at you that's just… _wrong_. And I don't mind guys looking at me. It's the way they talk to you, though—talk _at_ you. Some want you to say _no_ but mean _yes_. Some want you to say _yes_ but mean _no_ but allow _yes_. That _man_, though—he just wants you to say _no_. Do you know what I mean?'

Mai wasn't sure she followed at all, but Gene grimaced.

'I mean it is so _obvious_ what he wants—but then all he does _is talk._ I'd rather just get on with it—but he goes _on and on and on_,' Kiki continued, the vodka sloshing around in the bottle. 'I know I shouldn't complain. It's great money, right?'

Mai shrugged. She really didn't know the pay difference between barmaid and hostess.

'Aoi is right,' Kiki snorted a laugh and set aside the vodka bottle. 'You are too cute, Taniyama-chan. But you have to understand. _I'm not a career hostess_. I'm just doing this gig to make the cash I need to get to Milan. I've got this agent friend, and he's sure I'll make a mint modelling haute couture in Europe.' She gazed down at her breasts and proudly plumped them before slapping her hands against her thighs in frustration. 'But _that man_, he thinks I'm _a professional_ like those _other hostesses_, and the things he says to me are just _outrageous_. It's enough to make a girl want to off herself—if she didn't know she'd be wearing Valentino and Gucci in a year's time.' She smacked her mouth and grabbed for the vodka bottle again. She only got the bottle halfway to her mouth before she stopped and started to speak again. 'And total _ew_, he's got this incestuous fantasy thing—can you imagine? _You've been a very naughty girl_.'

'She's really drunk,' Gene said.

'Yeah….' Mai didn't really know what to say to the girl. She'd never seen Kiki drink at work—in fact, she'd never seen any employee drink during serving hours.

'You wouldn't understand,' Kiki said, slumping back into the cupboard. Her miniscule dress didn't even begin to cover her panties. Gene politely kept his eyes averted. For the most part. 'You better get washing those dishes or else you'll get into trouble again.'

Hurriedly returning to her task, Mai shot Gene a meaningful glare, and he had the good grace to blush.

Kiki chattered on, and Mai wondered if she was insane as well as drunk. If she truly wanted to get away from Fujiwara-san and the ugly patron, she should've crawled back into the cupboard or at least whispered. '… So that's why _I'm_ cursed. Of course that's nothing compared to my brother. My brother has inherited a demonic flat from our uncle. And by demonic, I mean, my uncle _bankrupted and killed_ himself fixing up this place and trying to rent it out, but _no one_ ever rents it. I'd live there myself, if it weren't all the way in Ota. I mean, _South_ _Tokyo_? I don't think so. My brother is forking out a crazy amount of money for unoccupied property insurance, and he's so desperate to break the curse that he's willing to rent it without any key money or security deposit and for three, no _five_ times less than it is worth. 85,000-yen a month.'

The pan that Mai was drying clattered to the floor. 'No key money and no security deposit?'

'Is 85,000-yen good?' Gene asked.

'Is it four tatami? Or unfurnished and rat infested? Does it have a toilet?' Mai asked.

'I'm telling you, my uncle _bankrupted_ himself and then he _killed himself_ over this flat. It is _lush_.' Seeing as Kiki was still flashing her panties and, if she kept on wiggling around, she'd soon be flaunting her nipples everywhere, Mai wasn't sure what the hostess considered 'lush'.

'Do you think I could get a property viewing?' Mai asked, picking up the pan that she'd dropped.

'Mai, this is not a good idea. The place sounds haunted,' Gene said.

'Are you looking for a new flat?' Kiki-tan asked, sitting up straighter. 'I can ring my brother right now, if you want.' Not waiting, she pulled out a mobile phone from who knows where, and she dialled a number. Not unexpected Kiki ended up in a heated argument about waking people up in the dead of night. She paced the alcove and shouted down the phone.

Even if the flat was a small studio, 85,000-yen was an okay price. It was the lack of key money and deposit that was important. Plus if she rented the flat privately, she wouldn't have to pay letting agency fees. She could afford to move in immediately, and she wouldn't have to stay at Saint Giles anymore. Furthermore Gene could help her put up wards right away, and she could finally get a good night's sleep without worrying about Kennel Boy.

'I'm against this, Mai. This flat doesn't sound like a good idea at all,' Gene said.

'Kiki!' Fujiwara-san shouted across the kitchen, his face purple with rage.

Kiki hung up her mobile and darted out of the alcove, never looking back at Mai.

Groaning, Mai pushed another rack of dishes into the industrial dishwasher. 'Guess it was too good to be true,' she muttered at the exact same time that Gene said, 'That's lucky. At least we don't have to worry about an exorcism.'

Mai glared at the ghost.

…

_3 p.m. Asaka Hiro. _On one side of the napkin, Kiki-tan had written the time and her brother's name. On the other side she'd written an address in Den-en-Chofu, the garden suburb of southern Tokyo.

Mai had another four hours before she had to catch the train south. Sitting on the ground in the shadows of a large tree, Mai fought to keep her eyes open. She'd managed to wash all the dishes without breaking any, and when she'd started to mop the dance floor, some of the centre bar staff had stopped to chat and laugh about the Day Three Curse. Right before she'd finished for the night, Fujiwara-san and Kiki-tan had shoved by her—and Kiki had stuffed the napkin in Mai's back pocket.

'So I visualise a shield that clings to my body first and then I build outward?' Mai asked, though at that moment she couldn't summon up enough energy to even visualise.

'You won't be able to create a shield if you're this exhausted,' Gene said, standing with his back to her. 'Let's go back to Saint Giles. Let's forget about viewing this demonic flat.'

'I hate that place,' she whispered, wiping cold sweat from her forehead.

'You'll hate a haunted flat more.'

'You don't know that it is haunted.'

'Don't play dumb, Mai. Didn't working for my brother teach you anything?'

'It taught me the value of "please" and "thank you",' she said.

'_Please_, Mai. _Please_. You're positively drained. You're ill. I've come up with a plan. I've been thinking about it for ages. You're going to ring Lin.'

Shaking her head, Mai's eyes slid shut.

…

_She lay on her stomach on the kennel room futon. It smelled sour and musky and moulded. A fully aroused adult male pressed hard against her back. She shuddered with fear. Just because she'd never physically been in this sort of situation did not mean she didn't comprehend the gravity of it. She strained and tried to twist to the side. If she could identify her assailant—the man with the blurred face. The man that butchered the other woman. She tried to drop low and squirm away._

_He used the movement to tighten his hold on her. One hand dug into her hipbone; the other slid, cold and rough, beneath Mai's shirt. Cold sweat broken out all over her body, and she blinked hard against her tears._

_She could get out of this. She could. All she needed to do was focus. Focus. Focus._

'_Your unwillingness to assist is causing trouble for more than just one person.' Kennel Boy blinked into the dream and crouched before her. 'Oh dear, what would people think if they saw you in this position, Mai? Naughty, naughty. But you like being treated like trash, don't you? You get off on it.'_

_Blur Face ground himself against her from behind._

_Mai's mind and body were at war. While intellectually she knew fighting Blur Face's restrains would be futile, tremors of fear rocked her nerves._

_Kennel Boy leaned in to whisper into her ear, and his long necklace of human teeth dragged across Mai's cheek. _'_Corpses, strangulation, the shattering of your pretty little hands in the traditional fashion—you're either very strong or very weak,' he said. _

_The hand on her waist slid upward until it rested on the underside of her breast. Mai bucked, but Blur Face seemed to enjoy it and pressed his body firmly against her back. Mai held in a whimper._

'_So stubborn,' Kennel Boy said. 'Stubborn, noble, stupid, and prideful. Just. Like. Him. It makes me want to gut you right here. Now. Screw the consequences. But I have to wait. Because the time will come when you have served your purpose—when he watches you die screaming his name…' Kennel Boy shoved his grubby fingers against Mai's mouth and caressed her teeth. 'He'll crumble. And finally I'll have what is _mine_.' Mai jerked her head to the side in a futile attempt to bite Kennel Boy's worming fingers. 'But until then my companion here has his own needs.'_

_Mai clenched her eyes, trying to ignore Blur Face's calloused hand as it crept higher. She thought of a woollen blanket clinging to every millimetre of her body—scratchy but thick and warm—and on top of the blanket, she imagined a bed of a million needles pointing outward, and scalding liquid flowed through and over the needles._

_Kennel Boy breathed deep. 'Tea? Tea and tears, Mai?' he laughed. 'Tea and tears, and still he doesn't come for you.'_

_Blur Face nipped at her neck, and Mai's stomach roiled. 'Kami… kami,' she whimpered._

_Kennel Boy gripped her chin. 'You're not wanted.'_

'_God doesn't listen to whores,' Blur Face murmured, his tongue delving into her ear._

'_No!' Mai choked, struggling to ram her elbow backwards and dislodge Blur Face, but in one hand, he captured her wrist, and with the other he clenched her breast. 'No!'_

'_You're weak, and you've been forsaken!' Kennel Boy yelled, seeming somehow both gleeful and enraged by this discovery._

_Blur Face flipped her over, and with one hand he pinned both her wrists overhead. From a crate beside the futon, he drew the black bladed knife. Writhing and bowing her back, Mai twisted so that she could look into Kennel Boy's flat eyes. 'Just because no one rushes to my rescue in this nightmare does not mean that I've been forsaken in reality,' she bit out, thoroughly pissed off. 'And what would you know about waking life, anyway? You only exist in my mind.'_

_A hot line streaked across her abdomen, and the boy smiled. 'That's good to know.'_


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Blur Face's blade had shallowly cut Mai across her stomach. She could feel a little trickle of blood slipping around her bellybutton—but that wasn't something that Gene needed to know. In fact _no one_ ever needed to know about that dream. She'd never felt dirtier, more…. _She could still feel that man's hand clenching her breast_.

Mai pressed her trembling fingers again her face. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't give in to the terror—that was just what he'd wanted. What both Kennel Boy and Blur Face wanted.

'Mai?'

She flinched and held up one hand for silence. She could do this. She could. She could hold herself together. Was this any worse than her other dreams? _Yes_. _Maybe_. _Only if she let it follow her into reality_. _Only if_—

'Are you okay?'

Snuffling back her tears and nodding, Mai offered Gene a grimacing smile. 'I'm okay.' No one could believe that she was okay. She took several deep breaths. 'I am o-kay. I am o-kay.' She looked everywhere but into his concerned face. '… I am. I… I am. How long was I out for?'

'Four minutes… maybe five,' Gene said, 'and you are _not _okay.'

Mai gasped, blinking large droplets of rain from her eyes. The tree beneath which she sat was proving to be a poor source of protection against the inclement weather. 'Just give me a moment. I'll be okay. I just need to…. It was just a dream. I'm okay, and I'm ready for my appointment to see Kiki-tan's brother's demonic flat.'

Yes, if she focused on events in reality, she could put this awful _dream_ behind her. It wasn't a memory. It was a dream. It wasn't real.

'We are not going to see that flat, Mai.' Gene stood and towered over her. 'You need to take a _proper _nap—'

Mai balked. There was _no_ way she was sleeping until she had a game plan, an exit strategy, _any idea how to avoid another repeat with Blur Face_. 'We are seeing this flat. We are seeing it; I am exorcising whatever is haunting it; and we're putting up a billion wards before I ever close my eyes again. Then there will be sweet, dreamless sleep.'

Gene harrumphed. 'I was under the impression that you wanted me to stick around. We have a deal, right?'

Pressing her hand to her stinging belly, Mai sat up straighter. 'Of course—'

'Than you best _not_ put up wards because if they are effective, they'll work on me too. Also it is imperative that you _keep dreaming_. These visions are your body's natural way of burning off excess energy.' Mai gestured at him furiously—he wasn't listening!—and he backpedalled slightly, 'There are, however, some charms and other energy manipulating techniques that could help you gain more control while within the dreams.'

Mai gripped her stomach tighter. At least that was something. If she had to dream, than she had to dream—though she'd really like to know why she couldn't do something else to burn off excess psychic energy. Furthermore, why was it excess? Couldn't she put it away in some reserve storage compartment in her brain? _Naru never used his powers_—almost never. Gene was the expert, though.

'We'll need some place private for you to instruct me. That is why we'll check out Kiki's flat,' she said, struggling to her feet.

Gene turned away in disgust. 'You are in no condition to deal with whatever is haunting that flat. Even if you were fully rested and healthy, you haven't begun to learn the art of exorcism.'

Mai took several tremulous steps. 'You can teach me along the way.'

'I won't,' he said like a petulant child.

She shrugged and wobbled toward the train station. It didn't matter if he taught her or not. She'd do anything to find a safe place to sleep. If she had to have a showdown with an earthbound ghost, at least that was something that she'd had relative success with in the past.

Gene refused to speak to her for the next five hours.

Den-en-Chofu was indeed a garden suburb, though at 3 p.m. the sky was dreek and the wind slid through Mai's shirt, grating her sensitive skin and rekindling thoughts of her dream.

The address on the napkin turned out to be a modest western-style house, and Kiki stood in front of the gate. Overlarge sunglasses masked her hangover. Her denim skirt and short jacket were marginally less showy than her usual hostess attire.

'There you are! Did you get lost?' Kiki grabbed hold of Mai's arm. Mai flinched, but Kiki took no notice. 'I am _exhausted. _I haven't had a good night's sleep in _weeks_.'

Mai laughed flatly. 'Tell me about it.'

'And now you're thinking of living all the way out here. Not to put you off my brother's flat, but have you considered the _commute_?' Kiki smacked her mouth like the word _commute_ had been vile on her tongue, and then she chattered away about all the other reasons that she would never live in _suburbia_.

'Um… is your brother going to come show me the flat?' Mai interrupted.

'The flat,' Kiki laughed like she'd just remember that was the reason for Mai's visit. 'Yeah, my nephew broke his arm so my brother's at the hospital. That's why I'm here.' She jangled a ring of keys. 'Just follow me.'

Kiki led Mai down a narrow path between the tall fences that separated two properties. She moaned about the muck ruining her stiletto heels and how she should really be at the gym, and Mai struggled to interrupt her and ask where exactly they were going.

'The entryway is towards the back,' she explained. 'My brother doesn't own the main house. It belongs to some old friend of my uncle, but even the main house doesn't get used too often anymore.'

Mai shivered and cupped her elbows with her palms.

The further they walked, the more Mai worried that the flat would merely be a sheet-metal lean-to shed in the back garden, but soon the narrow path turned into a slate staircase and views opened up to a tiny, over-grown garden. Set into a stonewall was a cheerful, yellow door. Too cheerful.

Kiki sharply pivoted, and Mai flinched backwards with her hand pressed to her sore abdomen.

'You okay?' Kiki asked. 'You look strange.'

Mai laughed nervously. 'You just scared me. I wasn't expecting you to turn around.'

Tapping a finger on her chin, Kiki looked Mai up and down. 'You look like an anorexic, virginal hostess on her first assignment. No, take that back. You look like an anorexic hostess who's just returned from her first assignment—where she had the crap beaten out of her because she doesn't know how and went to throw a punch. Do you know how to throw a punch, Taniyama-chan?'

Confused Mai held up her fist.

Kiki snorted indelicately and grabbed Mai's hand. 'Do you want to break your thumb? Don't tuck it in. Prepare with a coil that's tucked tight to your body. Hold your knuckles vertical, but when you punch out, you thrust from the hips, rotate your hand around and hit the fucker with your knuckles horizontal.'

Mai clumsily did as she was instructed.

'Hopeless,' the hostess said. 'Do it like this.' She punched out at an imaginary target—missing Gene by a hair's width.

Mai copied her movements, aiming at Gene as well. Staring at the yellow door, he didn't appear to notice.

'Good job. Here are the keys,' Kiki said.

Mai fumbled to catch the jangling mass. 'Aren't you coming in with me?'

'Hell, no. That's a demonic flat. Good luck,' the hostess said, tromping back down the slate stairs. 'And remember, next time that bastard bothers you, you got to use the power of your hips and _thrust_.' This time Kiki's hip thrusting motion was something rather different from throwing a punch.

'We're not going in there,' Gene said, blocking Mai's path.

Mai fiddled with the keys until she found the big one that looked to fit the yellow door's lock. A heap of maggots seemed to be writhing in her stomach, but Mai ignored them.

When Gene did not move aside, she stepped through him. Gooseflesh raced over her body, every hair stood on end, but she kept her hand steady.

'What's the point of being here if you never listen to me? Stop this at once, Mai. You are being a total idiot!'

The lock clinked, and the door slowly drew open of its own accord.

'I'm going in,' she said. The key ring dangling from her pinkie, Mai pressed her forefingers and thumbs together.

'Shield first!' Gene shouted, and Mai halted a breath away from crossing into the dark threshold. 'Where's your shield? You've never even created one!'

Mai clenched her fist around the key ring and held it at her hip as Kiki had instructed.

Gene drew a sharp breath.

A steel-wool blanket scoured over her skin, from which sprung a bed of eight-inch needles, and over which flowed a steaming river of Earl Grey tea and tears. Mai's body shook with concentration.

'Shorten the needles,' Gene whispered. 'And now add something _hard_.'

Glass as thick and smooth as a highball's base formulated the fourth layer of her shield.

'I can't believe we're going to do this,' Gene muttered.

'Shut up, Cricket-chi,' Mai hissed. 'Something's nesting in our home, and we're going to exterminate it.'

'_Our_ home? You haven't even signed lease papers.'

'Details, details,' Mai said as they stepped into the frigid shadows of their new home.

...

Though Mai felt ill at ease and chilled, her breath didn't stain the air. Considering that the yellow door was the only opening in the front wall, it seemed odd that Mai could see all the way to both ends of the entryway, which stretched the width of the building. The shoji doors, closed and masking the flat's interior, glowed with a soft white light. Whatever the source of the light, it came from directly above her.

Curling her middle fingers in until they pressed into the flesh at their bases, Mai fitted her hands together in preparation to recite a mantra. Slowly she tipped her head back to face her foe.

A vine covered skylight set into the high ceiling.

Feeling like an idiot gave her courage, and she stepped toward the shoji doors. If Gene were corporeal, it would've made things a lot easier. If he could've opened the door, Mai could've retained her preparatory stance—but since all Gene seemed good for was muttering _this is a really bad idea_, Mai had to awkwardly use her elbow to open the door. She refused to let her fingers separate.

The shoji door rattled as it slid to one side and revealed a large room washed in grey. Stripes of light cut through closed blinds. The flat itself seemed inverted. The entryway stepped down into living space, and the windows were set two metres from the ground. Even without the benefit of being fully illuminated, it was evident that Kiki had been correct in her assessment—the flat was _lush_. And judging by the high ceilings, it would cost a fortune to heat.

'_Tadaima_,' Mai whispered as she stumbled down the steps into the living area. She half expected a spectral voice to answer _O-kaeri nasai_, and when the flat remained silent, she breathed out a deep sigh.

The shapes of two couches were directly in front of her, and further in the vague outline of a tall dining table separated the living space in two. Nothing seemed out of place, but spidery chills danced along her neck.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Mai made out a floating staircase that curved slightly and rose up to a blank wall. The disk-like steps gave the staircase the look of a spinal cord. Undelveable blackness filled the room beyond and beneath the staircase.

Mai edged around the couches. Her nerves shook with alertness, and her heart pounded, nearly choking her at the base of her throat. Though no evil spirit made itself evident, the flat itself seemed to watch her. The idea of being watched translated into a resolve to be extra brave—at least on the outside.

'You know what this reminds me of?' Mai whispered to Gene.

'One of your crazier stunts while working at SPR?' He stuck close to her, and she could almost feel his jacket brush against her shoulder.

Mai slid her gaze from one side of the flat to the other—still all clear—and then she swallowed thickly and sang under her breath, '_Scooby-Dooby-Doo, where are you? We've got some work to do now_.'

'Mai, that's not funny' Gene growled.

Though her voice cracked and she thought that she might vomit with dread, Mai added a little shoulder dance to the song. '_Scooby-Dooby-Doo, where are you? We need some help from you now_.'

A whinny flooded the flat.

'That's a really good impression of Scooby, Cricket-chi,' Mai said, pausing in her song.

'That's wasn't me,' Gene hissed.

'Oh dear. Here comes the villain.'

'I wish you'd take this seriously.'

'I am!'

'You're singing the theme tune to a nineteen seventies cartoon.'

'It makes me feel more confident.'

'I'd prefer you to feel more focused.'

'I am focused.'

The furniture juddered, and another drawn out whiny came from the blackness behind the staircase. Something dragged along the floor, and to Mai it sounded like the gliding of house shoes, though logically she knew that yurei didn't have feet. Perhaps the flat wasn't haunted—perhaps it merely had in infestation of vagrants or stray dogs or…

A white face glowed in the darkness. Its eyes glinted black, and its wide nose flared. Its jaw trembled and yawned at an awkward angle, and a thick tongue clacked against toothless gums. Metres of hair floated around it, like a black mist caught in a breeze, and the length disappeared in the darkness beyond.

Pressing her hands together firmly, Mai set the mantra turning in her mind and warming her mouth.

'Don't drop your shield,' Gene warned.

Never one for multitasking, keeping the mantra at ready and reinforcing her shield left Mai shaky and unsure of the security in either. Could she release the mantra with her shields up? Would it shatter the shield? Tear it off her? Would the mantra be hindered or dampened? Why hadn't she asked Gene these questions before entering the flat?

The yurei glided further out of the shadows—though its hair seemed somehow still attached to them. Mai wondered if the room behind the stairs wasn't dark at all, and if the pitchy colour were all misty hair. The yurei's tongue lolled like a bloated slug. Its head balanced atop a neck no wider than Mai's bicep, and the torso was equally as emaciated until it bulged at the stomach—as though it had swallowed a watermelon.

'Is it pregnant?' Mai whispered. 'I don't think I can destroy a pregnant person.'

'It's a gaki. A hungry ghost.'

'Should we feed it instead?'

'A gaki isn't a stray dog. It won't eat Kibbles and Bits. That gaki eats corpse flesh.'

The gaki crouched low and hissed.

Mai's hands trembled, and the mantra felt cold and ineffectual in her mouth. 'So why's it in an uninhabited flat?' she whispered.

'Good question, but I don't think it's going to tell us,' Gene said. 'You wanted to do this, so be ready.'

The gaki charged, darting back and forth and staying low to the ground like a snake. Long black hair streamed behind it.

'_On sunba nis-nis-nisunba_…' Mai tripped over the mantra, and the words felt like icicles in her mouth. Her lips welded together with the cold. Steel-wood, needles, tea and glass seemed to shatter around her feet as though the strings that held her shield up had suddenly been cut.

The gaki whinnied louder and rushed at her.

Mai steadied herself, widening her stance, and dropped her hands. She clenched her fists at her hips and sucked the shattered remnants of her shield inward. The sharp edges and scalding temperatures shredded Mai, but she tugged harder on the broken visualisation. The effort seized her breath. When dark spots flashed before her eyes. When she thought for sure that she would pass out, she released her breath and pushed everything forward with all her energy.

A scream shook the flat, and the gaki flew backward into the darkness beneath the staircase. The black mist exploded in all directions, passing through the walls, and it took with it the grey film that had covered the flat. It seemed as though the sun had burned through a blanket of smog. Behind the staircase stood a large kitchen painted in the same cheerful yellow as the front doorway.

'When do you learn to do that?' Gene asked after a long silence.

'I just did like Kiki-tan said. Thrust from the hips.' Mai pulled her fists to her waist and then punched outward.

'That's…' Gene shook his head in wonder. 'That's really very maho shojo, Mai.'

'Should I have made a speech? _I will defeat you in the name of love and justice?_'

'And Scooby Snacks.'

'Scooby Snacks are the best,' Mai laughed, and her stomach ached. 'Wait, are you calling me a dog?'

Gene shrugged. 'I wonder.'

'So annoying,' she said, hunting around for a light switch or some other way to more fully illuminate the flat. 'Perhaps we should go into property investment. You know, buy cheap and haunted, exorcise the place and charge something astronomical.'

'The quintessential thrifty and positively insane business pitch of one Taniyama Mai.'

Mai smirked at the thought of giving the SPR van a psychedelic paint job like the _Mystery Machine_. 'But we make a good team, eh?'

'It'd be better if I were corporeal,' he sighed.

Mai winced as she tripped over some kind of table. 'Think on the bright side—at least this way you don't have to take out the garbage, do the dishes, or cook dinner.'

Gene leaned in and whispered in her ear, 'You're missing out. I make an excellent toad-in-a-hole.'

'_Pervert_,' Mai muttered before flicking on a lamp and gazing around the flat.

'What? No, toad-in-a-hole is a sausage and… oh, never mind, you aren't even listening to me.'

By Mai's standards the place was enormous and extravagant. Thick carpet padded the open living space. Between two overstuffed couches stood a kotatsu—no, a _coffee table_, and beyond that was a tall dining table with _four_ chairs. What was she going to do with _four_ chairs? In full light, the staircase looked less like a spinal cord and more like a piece of modern art. Rather than leading to a blank wall, as Mai had assumed before, a set of shoji doors ran the length of a loft that stood over the kitchen and wrapped around to extend the length of the flat on the right. Several doors lead off the ground floor's right wall, and Mai peeked in each one. A large closet, a storage room and a bathroom with a window. The kitchen possessed more than one unidentifiable western-style convenience. Beside the rice cooker sat an espresso machine. Kiki's brother could easily get 200,000-yen a month for the place.

'You've got two big beds and some office space up here,' Gene said. One of the loft's shoji doors was open, and he leaned out from it. 'Do you realise that you managed to cleanse this place completely with one energy burst?'

'That explains why I'm so tired. I've got to sit down,' she said, sinking into a couch. 'This place is amazing.'

'It isn't bad.'

'Rich bastard,' she said with a yawn. She popped her shoes off and snuggled into the cushions. 'Well, I'll say it again. _Tadaima_.'

'_O-kaeri nasai_, Mai.'

Mai smiled. Not only had she found a home—she'd also found a new way to harness her energy. That disgusting Blur Face had best watch out because the next time she saw him, she planned to bludgeon his blobby visage into a pulpy mess. Sure, she still felt terrified. Defiled. But moreover she felt _pissed. Pissed and powerful._

…

_Like a haunch of meat in a butcher's shop window, Mai hung from the ceiling, suspended upside down by one ankle. She kind of wished both legs were tied, as her free thigh ached with the effort to keep it pointed upward. Her arms dangled over her head, and occasionally her fingertips brushed the newspapers on the floor._

_Two grubby sneakers flickered into being. 'How do you get yourself into these situations? Even I couldn't dream up something quite so bizarre as these. Doesn't matter, really,' Kennel Boy said, kneeling in front of her. _

_Mai clenched fists and tried to summon her strength—her energy rallied for a moment, but sputtered out like a car that had run out of petrol._

'_I've been thinking about our last conversation,' he chatted on. 'Up until now I considered your existence… as a test instrument, a tool to work a tool.' _

_Perhaps she could at least manage a shield. She closed her eyes and attempted to draw forth her visualisations—the air around her felt deadened, and she couldn't summon the first element._

'_You are, after all, disposable. __Like a pre-paid calling card, yes?' Pain sliced through Mai's vision as Kennel Boy backhanded her. 'I asked you a question!'_

_Mai licked the blood from the corner of her mouth. Anger burst through her veins. Electricity arched through her like a jumpstarted engine. 'You don't seem to know Gene very well.' Kicking her free leg, her body began to swing like a pendulum. 'You're trapped here, and he'll never come for you. No matter what. You'll never get what you want.'_

_Kennel Boy pulled back a little, his crouch more animalistic than human. Energy seemed to gather around him, and his form flickered like heat rising off pavement. 'Is that what I want, little girl?'_

_Curving her back, Mai added more forced to the momentum of her swinging body. Clenching her fist, she prepared to punch outward._

_Something hard slammed into her shoulder and pain reverberated through her arm, as though she'd been pegged by a baseball. Energy burst through her body, and she sucked a breath through her teeth. A thousand shards of falling stars ripped exits through her back, stealing with them the heat from Mai's body. Her heat. Her energy. Her life. After all that she'd survived, she'd be damned if some filthy Kennel Boy stole everything from her._

_Answering to a new force, the shards of thieving energy curved their paths and looped around—more like comets than falling stars. They retraced their trails, propelling Mai forward. Her back felt like a damp rag slammed beneath an iron. Swinging forward, Mai grasped Kennel Boy's shirt and shoved forward every ion of her being. Kennel Boy's eyes widened seconds before the blast tore the dreamscape apart._


	12. Chapter 10

Unlucky: Part A 9

VivaEdina

**Chapter 10**

'Ahhh… tatatata…ahhh ouch-chy!'

'What happened?' Gene shouted.

Mai lay prone on the carpet, unsure if she'd ever be able to move again. It felt as though she'd just shoved a knife in an electrical socket. Blood filled her mouth, and she dabbed at her split lip with a piece of cloth.

'Where did you get that?' Gene asked, pointing at the cloth.

Mai regarded it curiously. It was shredded and made of blue cotton. 'Kennel Boy's shirt,' she whispered in awe.

'From your dream?'

'I grabbed onto him and then I blasted him. I must've brought it back with me.'

'A trace. You said you've brought things through before. You once mentioned a scalp.'

'Yeah, that was gross.' Mai eased herself into a sitting position and slumped against the edge of the couch. 'I guess I've done it several times before. Like the time that I gave Masako my house key during the Urado case.'

'But to transport objects, they must exist on this plane. Do you feel like you're astral projecting in your kennel dreams?'

Mai thought about it. During the times that she astral projected, there were always will o' the wisps, and she'd never been corporeal. In fact, she'd always thought of herself as more of a spirit during those visions. In the kennel dreams—and even in her marathon visions—she definitely had substance. She touched her cut lip. 'It feels more real. Like one of those dreams that you think _I've cut off my arm!_, and then you wake up to find that you've been lying strange and your arm is just asleep.'

This seemed to confuse Gene further. 'Can this Kennel Boy touch you?'

Mai dabbed at her lip again with the cloth. It'd almost stopped bleeding, so she concluded that there'd be little lasting effect from Kennel Boy's backhanded slap. 'Yes. So can… the man with the blurred face,' she whispered.

'You've never mentioned him before.'

'Oh….' Mai drew her knees to her chest protectively. 'He… um… he has a blurry face. He isn't always there.'

Gene sat down on the coffee table—or at least he gave the illusion of sitting. 'What does he do?'

Mai shook her head.

'Mai, _what does he do_?'

Plucking at her holey jeans, she tried for a casual tone but her voice trembled: 'He hurts girls.'

'Has he hurt you?'

'I….' Bile worked into her throat. 'Not like he does to the others. He isn't important. Kennel Boy is the problem.'

'And you always see him in the room with the dog kennel?' When Mai nodded, he asked in a firm voice, 'Where is the room with the kennel?'

'I don't know. Sometimes it's just there and sometimes I go through my marathon terrors before ending up in the room.'

'Is it in Japan?'

'You asked that before,' she said, sighing. Their conversations seemed to go in circles. 'It has to be Japan. I understand what they say to me.'

'You understand what I say to you.'

'You're speaking Japanese!'

'No, Mai, _I am not_.'

Mai opened and closed her mouth, unable to make a sound.

'I thought you understood what being a Perfect Medium meant. You can understand and speak with any spirit. No matter what language they speak.'

'But _you _are a Perfect Medium.'

'I was. You are—' He frowned before adding: 'Though my presence here may have spurred along the natural development of your gifts.'

'Why? How?'

Gene hesitated. 'Practice?' he offered, but even Mai wasn't stupid enough to believe that was it. 'Look, your energy is in flux. That's why you are inundated with visions. That is why you wander the dreamscape every time you sleep. That is what allowed you to cleanse this flat without preparations. It is what allowed you to shield without study. Didn't I make myself clear about this?'

'You've never said a word about it!' Mai winced at her own shrill tone.

'Back to the issue at hand—literally. That piece of cloth. No matter what, you shouldn't be able to transport an object that doesn't exist on this plane. Furthermore you shouldn't be travelling bodily in your dreams. I need you to really concentrate now—are you sure that the kennel room is in Japan? Are you sure you speak Japanese with the boy?'

Mai closed her eyes and tried to visualise the kennel room. Nothing about the room said that it existed in Japan. But then nothing about it said that it existed _outside_ of Japan. It seemed to be in a basement. It had no doors and only high windows. 'There's a futon in the corner. A kennel in the middle.'

'Is there anything on the walls? Circles and….' Gene paused with a shaky breath. 'Scratchings—like stylised sketchings of an open cage?'

'The only cage in that room is _the kennel_. There's nothing on the walls. Why—?'

'What about drawn on the floor?' Gene persisted.

Frustrated Mai opened her eyes again. 'I can't see the floor. It's… it's carpeted in newspapers.'

'What language is the newspaper written in?'

She'd never paid any attention. The papers had been a source of ominous sounds rather than holding visual impact for her. She remembered her fingers brushing against them in this last dream. Brushing and brushing against black and white photos. What language was it in? 'Kanji. Mostly it's Kanji, but there are some pages with romanticised lettering.'

'Is it German, French, Spanish? Can you read any? A headline?'

'… I…' Mai clenched her eyes shut and strained to recall a headline. Any headline. She'd seen so many, why couldn't she remember one? 'Something about _water? Leith_…? Maybe?'

'Spell it.'

'LEITH.'

'That narrows it down to Britain or the colonies,' Gene said with an exceptionally Naru-esque expression

'How do you figure?'

'It is common for colonists to name new towns after existing cities. New _York. Perth_. I don't know how many New _London_s there are in the world. I do however know of at least three places named after Scotland's city of Leith.'

'What does it _mean_? Am I travelling halfway across the world every time I go to sleep?'

'I don't know. You are _sure_ this Kennel Boy is a spirit?' Gene looked more pensive than ever. 'What does he say?'

Mai hesitated. Since Gene couldn't enter her dreams, he'd be safe, but the truth would only fuel his frustration.

Gene frowned deeply at her hesitation. 'Whatever it is, just say it. Don't try and lie to me.'

'He wants me to scream,' she murmured, studying her hands and chipping away at inexistent nail polish. 'He wants me to scream so that I'll be rescued—well, _avenged_ is how he's aiming recently. He wants you to come into my dreamscape.'

'_Me?_'

Mai nodded.

'Are you positive? _Me_? No one should know I'm here. If it's _me_ he's after… we've got a serious problem.'

Mai squinted at her guardian. Despite his inability to touch her and move objects—not to mention be seen or heard by anyone else—he looked to Mai as real and solid as the next person. He didn't seem dead, and everything about their relationship confused her. 'Why's it a problem?'

'That's not something you need to worry about.'

'Of course not,' Mai said, summoning enough energy to lift herself off the carpet and on the couch again.

'I'm sorry,' Gene muttered.

'I suppose it isn't your fault that some filthy-voiced child and a blur-faced man want to lather you with vengeful happenings. I just wish I knew why it had to be _me_ that they keep torturing.'

'Torture?'

Mai shrugged. 'What else do you call it?'

'I want to know everything that happened in every dream—'

Mai yawned. 'That'll take all night, and I need to run to the bank before work. How about we talk about this later?'

...

'200,000-yen as promised,' Mai said, handing a bulging brown envelope to the ferrety man across the bar. The worst part of a yakuza loan was that half the monthly payment was _interest_. It would be another six years of regular payments before she could get the yakuza off her back.

When she calculated it, Mai figured that she paid the yakuza twice her living expenses. Earlier she'd run into Kiki, who'd insisted that Mai keep the keys to the (formerly) 'demonic flat'. Her brother would come by and pick up first month's rent in the afternoon. The bizarre and stilted exchange had put Mai at ease—at least she knew where she lived now—and perhaps that was why she felt less intimidated by the loan shark.

The yakuza man had the gall to open up the envelope and count the money on the bar even as hordes of customers began to fill the club. Perhaps something good had happened to him earlier because he refrained from his usual threatening commentary and sexual harassment. When he was satisfied that Mai'd not short-changed him, he pointed at her and said: 'See you next month.'

'Usually it's much worse,' Mai said, half to herself and half to Gene who seemed mystified by the exchange.

'Don't speak too soon or you'll find him back in a few hours, demanding you pay all over again,' Mignon said, reaching around Mai for a bottle opener. 'It's happened to me before.'

'You…?'

'Sure. Me, you, and half the other staff. Why else would we all work in this hell hole?'

'But it's _our_ hell hole, so quit the yapping and get back to work,' the head barman said.

Mignon ignored the barman and a rude customer who was snapping his fingers to get their attention. 'Shall we have ourselves a little competition tonight, Mai-chan?'

'I'm in,' another barmaid shouted from her counter, and several other staff members concurred.

'What sort of competition?' Mai asked.

'Whoever makes the most tips gets first call on the lines tonight.'

Mai had no idea what _having the first call on the lines_ meant, but she shrugged in agreement. There'd be no way she'd win anyway, especially if the night went similarly to the one before. No, she reassured herself, she wouldn't let that happen. She wouldn't drop a single glass.

Competing for tips turned out to be a good-natured but rowdy endeavour. One barmaid stacked shot glasses and poured drinks like fountains. The head barman drew attention with a Tom Cruise-style bottle throwing technique. A busty barmaid spilled more cleavage than liquor, and Mignon's fire-breathing act drew a captivated crowd. Performance wasn't Mai's strong point, so she concentrated on smiling until she thought her teeth would fall out. She talked with everyone and strained her mind to remember faces and drinks and random facts. Occasionally _DJ DeeJay_ dedicated a song to the staff, and the centre bartenders all sang along at the top of their lungs. Bewildered and bemused, Mai joined in and embraced the jovial insanity.

The only time apprehension crept back into her mind was when she glanced back at the cocktail garnishes. Gene sat amongst them, as usual, like some lonely and baffled toy left up on a shelf to collect dust.

The busty barmaid won the competition, and no one seemed surprised or upset. Truth be told, their collective efforts had resulted in hefty tips all around.

Thrilled with the extra cash, Mai asked, 'Why don't we do this every night?'

'Greedy little thing, isn't she?' Mignon laughed.

'We'd die from exhaustion,' the head barman said. 'Plus if we compete randomly, our acts remain novel—otherwise people would just take it for granted and tips would drop.' Putting away the last of the glasses, he heaved a sigh. 'Now we can clean the lines. Finally.'

The rest of the centre bar staff cheered. With the exception of Aoi and the DJ, the regular club staff had long since vacated the building. Thinking that she should grab the mop and bucket and start on the dance floor, Mai turned toward the door, but Mignon grabbed her arm.

'Where do you think you're going? You heard Senpai. We're cleaning the lines.' At Mai's blank face, Mignon laughed and explained that cleaning the lines meant flushing the piping that ran between the beer taps and the casks in the basement. Aoi and the head barman, 'Senpai', would actually be handling the cleansing aspect of the job—which sounded tedious and less than pleasant—but that a fair amount of drinkable beer would be wasted initially, and the centre bar staff were welcome to consume it in lieu of payment for a night well-served.

The staff had gathered at her old bar to the right of the dance floor. Sure that she didn't want to drink but glad to spend time with cheerful people, Mai started to follow Mignon.

Gene cut in front of her, and she skidded to a stop. He shook his head and frowned in disapproval.

Mai dug the mobile phone out of the back pocket of her shorts and pressed it to her ear. 'Cricket-chi, don't say it. Please. I'm having fun. I want to try and be happy for one night without being swallowed up by the enormous hole that your idiot brother left in my life. Cricket-chi, _please_.'

Guilt washed across his face and he nodded, but before he walked away to perch amongst the cocktail garnishes, he said, 'You _should_ move on.'

What did that mean? A thousand horrible, depressing options swept though her mind like a tidal wave.

'I just mean… we have fun, don't we? Sometimes. And you shouldn't stop having fun because my brother is an idiot,' Gene explained but to Mai is sounded like backpedalling.

'Men are bastards, Taniyama-chan.' Aoi took the mobile from Mai and slid the screen closed. Luckily she didn't take a close look at the uncharged and thoroughly busted state of the phone. 'And they _never_ think of the impact that their wording has. Whatever the jerk said to you, just shake it off and let's get a beer.'

'I'm not twenty,' Mai said.

'Neither are half our customers. A pint won't kill you. Think of it as part of the job.'

With some clever acting, Mai managed to pretend like she'd consumed the half-pint of beer that she'd been offered. She didn't want to take the chance of passing out and ending up drunk and locked in the kennel room. A mere 45 minutes later, though, she realised that her colleagues' buzz was contagious through simple conversation. They made her laugh, and Mignon took great pleasure in dragging Mai into the DJ pit to peruse the music collection.

Everyone but _DJ DeeJay_—or Jay-kun as his real name was—joked about Mai's song choices. Jay-kun liked every kind of music, and he seemed impressed with Mai's knowledge of 'obscure' artists—though Mai didn't know what was so obscure about Dolly Parton or Django Reinhardt. He played some tracks that she'd never heard before, and a lot of the artists sang in English. It surprised her how well she understood the lyrics and that got her wondering how many different languages she already understood without knowing it.

The other staff members eventually helped clean the lines—and by helped one might rather say caused utter chaos—as Mai quickly mopped the dance floor. Admittedly though Mai's own mopping looked less like scrubbing and more like a karaoke-cum-hockey game.

When she finally left Gin Knockers, the world was fuzzy and fluid. Mai smiled at strangers and chatted away to Gene on her mobile—though what she talked about seemed a mystery even to her. Gene's expression fluctuated between bemusement and blankness, and on more than one occasion she accused him of putting on an appallingly bad impression of Naru. She may have also professed her love for the idiot scientist one or two hundred times, but she chose to block those moments from her memory.

When they got home to the flat, Mai kicked off her shoes at the door and climbed the staircase to the loft. Just as Gene had declared the day before, a large bed awaited her, and she collapsed into sleep without an ounce of hesitation.

…

_Mai snuggled deeper into the mattress. It smelled musty, but that wasn't surprising since Kiki had said no one had ever lived in the flat before. She'd need to air it out in the garden. It was lucky that it was a futon and not a western-style bed._

_No. It was a western-style bed._

_Eyes still closed, Mai extended a hand over the side of the mattress. Her fingers brushed newspaper._

'_It's time to wake up, Mai.'_

Her heart lurched. She was on the futon again. She needed to get up. She couldn't remain prone. '_No.'_

_A small hand brushed over her hair. 'Oh I think so. You keep on changing my plans. Yesterday I thought to torture you horribly until you begged for death, and to torment Oliver with visions of your suicide—but you keep on giving me new ideas.'_

'_Naru?' Mai whispered._

'_Of course. What would we want with the dead one?' The futon shifted as Kennel Boy crawled to her side. 'Now you're going to take me across with you.'_

_Mai lunged toward the other side of the futon, but the boy grabbed her. His fingernails dug deep into her side, and he cupped one hand around the back of her neck. He forced her face into the futon, and Mai choked on the foul smell. She couldn't get a full breath, and her lungs seemed crushed from behind._

'_Wake up, Mai!' Kennel Boy shrieked in her ear. 'Wake up before I kill you here.'_

_Her brain felt sluggish, her muscles watery, and Mai couldn't spin enough energy to form a shield, let alone attack the boy that crushed her from behind. Instead of thoughts of battlements, all that ran through Mai's brain was the thought that she'd been wrong. This hideous entity didn't want Gene. He was trying to get at Naru. Trying to use Mai to hurt Naru. That was something that she'd never allow. No matter what. Never._

_Mai's body went limp, and Kennel Boy shrieked again._

_A burst of heat shot through Mai's back, shredding her being. She didn't want to be another stain on that futon. Another death in the kennel room. Like the time before, she called the shards of energy back into her—this time through her front—and then shot the energy back at Kennel Boy. The pressure lifted off the back of her head._

…

Mai gasped, body bowing. It felt as though she were being split in two. Blistering heat tore the flesh from her back. The mattress swallowed her even as her spine ballooned upward.

'_Gene!_' His named wrenched from her mouth. The smell of burnt hair and flesh grated her throat.

Every time she thrashed, lava seemed to rush beneath her skin and loosen it from her muscles and bones. Nothing that had ever happened to her in her dreams could compare to this waking agony.

'_Oliver Davis!_' Kennel Boy's voice pierced Mai's mind and echoed through the flat.

Mai fisted her hands in her short hair. She visualised sucking all the scalding heat back into her body. If she could hold the pain in, Kennel Boy would be forced to return to the dreamscape. She gritted her teeth until she was sure that they'd crack.

A blanket of ice swept over her. The shock hurt worse than the fire, and Mai thrashed against it.

'Stay still! Stay still, Mai. Focus on your breathing. Focus. Breathe in and then blow the flames out. Steady. Breathe in…' Mai drew a shuttering breath. 'Now blow the flames out. Visualise.' Her breath came out in broken huffs, but she was able to repeat the process again and again until the flames that ran beneath her skin dampened and guttered. She finally felt Kennel Boy slip backward into the silent depths of her mind.

Frigid hours seemed to tick by, and finally the void-like energy of Gene's spirit ease off of Mai and he sat on the edge of her bed.

'He wants Naru,' Mai whispered.

'I heard.'

'_Who is he?'_

Gene said nothing for a long moment. 'I'm not sure. Someone trapped and hell-bent on killing Noll. Anything with that kind of power—the power to transcend existence—is not to be taken lightly.'

'It wasn't _him_.' Tears rolled from her wide eyes. 'It was _me_. I was tracing him. He forced me to trace him.'

'Mai, no one can trace a lost soul onto the earthly plane. It would have no body to enter. It would—it _did_ try and take yours, and nearly destroyed you in the process. Tracing a soul is like offering your body up for _permanent _possession.'

'Permanent?' she whispered.

'_Don't ever try that again_.'

'I didn't mean to!'

'You need more control.'

Still stretched out on her stomach, Mai dug her fingers into the mattress. '_That's what I'm trying to learn. You're supposed to be helping me. Aren't you?_'

Gene closed his eyes and breathed deeply—like he was trying to tamp down further argument. 'Kennel Boy is clearly using you to get to Noll.'

'Naru will be okay no matter what though—right? I mean, he once took on a _god_.'

'A piece of enshrined wood. A god with a singular purpose.' Gene scrubbed his hands over his face. 'Whatever this Kennel Boy is—whoever he was when he was alive—he won't be predictable. You said he changed his purpose from using you as live bait to killing you to elicit vengeance.'

'Sort of. And then when he figured out that I could return any energy that he threw at me—'

'That's how you trace? Raw force?' Since the start of their conversation, Gene hadn't looked directly at Mai, but her admission finally drew his gaze.

'Yes.' Mai sat up slowly, and it felt as though stitches popped and seams unravelled down the length of her spinal cord. It didn't hurt—not like the rest of her body—but it felt _wrong_. 'That's also how I woke up these last two times.'

'The first time bringing the scrap of cloth, and the second time you almost brought the entity itself across with you.'

The full comprehension that she'd almost brought some evil entity into reality—an evil entity that wanted to hurt Naru—pierced up through her stomach and clawed at her heart. '_I'm sorry_.'

'It isn't your fault,' Gene said, but he turned away and wouldn't make eye contact. 'We just need to make sure that it doesn't happen again. You can't let him piggyback into reality. You certainly can't let him use your gifts. If he crossed over, took possession of your body without destroying you—he'd attack Noll without notice. There'd be no way that Noll would survive.'

'Doesn't Naru have a shield?'

'That's not what I meant….' Gene shook his head. 'Never mind. Mai, _I was Noll's shield_. He's never been able to put one up. His idea of self-protection is to meet a force head on with equal power.'

'But he can't do that!' Tears tumbled from her eyes. 'I mean, his body can't handle that kind of energy release.'

'Not anymore. Not without me.'

'So what are we going to do?'

Again Gene paused in his answer and he refused to look in her direction. 'I have to admit, this is not what I expected to find at Gin Knockers. But since I'm here now…. This is what we are going to do: we'll keep this Kennel Boy at bay until we figure out how to exorcise him.'

Mai crawled cautiously to the edge of the bed. The movement caused fire and ice to race intermittently down her body. 'Now that Kennel Boy knows he can use me to transcend the dreamscape, he won't stop trying to use me. He'll stalk me in my dreams, and he'll torture me until I give in and transport him—but I won't. I won't no matter what. But he'll keep coming after me until I give in or I die. Or until I run crying to Naru, and Naru goes hunting for Kennel Boy.'

'Yes,' Gene whispered.

Mai stood slowly. Her back felt tight and loose at the same time, and she had to clutch the front of her shirt to keep from exposing herself. Most of her shirt had burned away.

Gene sucked in a sharp breath. 'Mai, your back.'

'Is it hideous? It feels hideous.'

'It's very red. I think it might blister. We need to go to the hospital.'

'Too expensive. I'll just take a bath to cool it down. Run it under cold water, you know.' She walked carefully to the staircase, trying to move only her legs and not the tender skin on her back. 'This is the ultimate scary SPR case, but we're not going to tell Naru about it, are we?'

Gene stared at his interlaced hands for a long minute. 'I can't. No one else can know I'm here.'

'You're choosing your brother's life over mine.'

Gene flinched. 'What I'm doing, it's unforgivable.'

Mai interlaced her fingers and stared across her new flat. Sunlight streamed in through the high windows. Everything looked so normal. Calm. _Safe_. 'You're wrong, Gene,' she said, continuing down the staircase. 'I forgive you.'

…

'Are you sure you want to submit the appeal?' Lin asked. 'Since when do you consider the possession of psychic abilities as grounds for an insanity plea? Have you considered how it might damage your reputation with Cambridge?'

Flipping through a stack of files and reports, Noll disregarded his friend and glorified nanny. If Cambridge and BSPR couldn't see reason, they could sod off—better yet, maybe Noll should sod off himself. Back to Tokyo.

Back to where some people still saw the human drama behind every investigation.

Naru stared at his little black notebook and the ragged post-it note that he'd been using as a bookmark. It was a piece of trash, really. Something that fell out of a box when he'd been reinstating his library. He wasn't even sure what it said. Kanji just wasn't his strong suit.

牛乳

紙

煎茶

The only reason he started using it was because it was _convenient_. His usual bookmark had gone missing, and he didn't approve of dog-earring. The yellow post-it had presented itself; it was small and _convenient_—enough said. He needn't make excuses to himself—it was just a post-it.

Sighing he continued to skim down the police report, but as he turned the page, Naru's finger caught on the edge of the bookmark—and he jerked back with the shock.

_A sea of bodies crushed and thrust against one another. Music pulsed against his skin. Coloured spotlights glinted across porcelain faces. A cage the size of a dog kennel stood at the centre of the dance floor. The flailing, intoxicated night clubbers paid it no mind—as though it were merely a piece of furniture—but something strange slumped inside the mesh. Noll wove between the dancers until he stood at the cage door. Crouching down, he stared into the shadowy interior. The corpse of a bony woman lay inside. Her delicate hand, thrown over her face, obscured her features. Printed across her shredded and bloodied t-shirt were the words _I see dead people.


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Drum and bass jungle music thrummed through Mai's body. Her toes seemed to shake in her calves, and her stomach felt as though it were wiggling up her oesophagus. The frenzied and rarely changing break beat sounded less like music and more like a flat lining heart monitor. A cottony dullness clogged her ears—probably her body's natural defence against the painfully high decibels—but every time the song's female vocalist emitted a slasher movie shriek, Mai's eardrums flinched agonisingly. All week Gin Knockers had been auditioning new DJs—and in Mai's opinion, DJ Epimillion was by far the worst. He should've named himself _DJ Epilepsy_; the club's clientele seemed to be suffering a collective fit on the dance floor. Epimillion's underground reputation had drawn in a bizarre crowd: men wearing boiler suits and women in bikinis and tutus. People of both sexes sported wigs of every length and colour; boots and arm warmers made of neon Wookiee-fur; and white makeup that transformed human faces into that of yurei.

Caught amongst jostling elbows and thrashing bodies, Mai clutched a box of flu medication and a water bottle. Despite working the centre bar for three weeks, Mai still held the title of glorified rookie—which meant performing disagreeable errands, such as delivering flu remedies to poor Jay-kun—Gin Knockers' headlining DJ—who'd been struck ill but was still obliged to supervise Epimillion. The only way to and from the DJ pit was to cross the heaving dance floor.

If Mai stood still for much longer, she'd be crushed, but cutting a path through the raving crowd seemed an impossible endeavour. Tentatively bouncing on the balls of her feet, she caught the rhythmic movements and slid between several people. The jolting strained the still blistered flesh on her back—the reminder she carried that Kennel Boy was only biding his time until Mai gave him another opportunity to piggyback into reality.

She tried to push aside the pain and endless anxiety by drawing shallow breaths, but the sour stench of alcohol-sweat fuses with the bitter taste of her lingering cold had her nearly gagging. Why couldn't they pump the club full of the melancholy but soothing scent of Earl Grey tea?

Gritting her teeth, she bounced and dodged again. If only Epimillion would change the track then the dancers' synchronised battering would falter, and Mai could move more than a metre at a time. To the far left there appeared more space to manoeuvre, but that meant risking a whipping by the manic glow-stringing dancers. She could handle dull thwacks against her aching back, but a lashing would bring her to her knees.

Some people might've taken the errand as reprieve from serving drinks and a chance to enjoy the club like a customer, but even if Mai weren't injured, she couldn't derive amusement from the situation. She had to conserve her energy so that after work she could drain what was left into warding and writing protective charms.

Under Gene's tutelage, Mai was slowly mastering the art of self-protection—though Gene's scientific but vaguely Christian approach to exorcism and energy manipulation often clashed with Mai's Shinto upbringing. Mai wouldn't consider herself particularly devout, but she still felt uncomfortable depending on a faith that she'd not claimed as her own. This complication of faith and theory meant that Gene and Mai were still formulating their own methodology. Though it seemed to be working, Mai's charms only lasted for six hours and only protected her from Kennel Boy's attacks.

Using her protective charms meant that Mai could get a solid five hours of rest every day—though the sleep was rarely dreamless and most often ended in a marathon night terror. Gene insisted that the rapid-fire visions were the result of unused abilities. Mai had spent so long suppressing them that she was now suffering backlash. She needed to ride out the worst of it and then start putting her visions to regular use, therefore avoiding further build up of unused energies. Mai thought of her condition as an unhealthy accumulation of psychic plaque, and she wished the solution were as easy as buying a better toothbrush and some floss.

When she wasn't working, studying or having horrific dreams, she was getting a crash-course in modern art. She and Gene must have visited every museum and small gallery in central Tokyo. He couldn't get enough of the stuff—though most of the exhibitions left Mai exceptionally confused. Mostly about how _Naru's twin brother_ could be obsessed with something as _illogical_ as _creativity_.

'Countdown,' Jay-kun's groggy voice echoed through the club, and an ominous single-tone beeping started.

Mai's stomach plummeted. She had to get off the dance floor fast, but a sea of bodies caged her from every side. The strobes lights flickered to the steadily increasing beat. Accidentally breathing too deep, she choked on the artificial fog. She wrapped her arms tight around her middle and tried to make herself as insubstantial as possible. The lights cut out, the music flat-lined, and the dancers lost all sense of rhythm and space.

Drowning in the shadows of floundering bodies, only the occasional will-o-wisp-like glow sticks illuminated the club. Mai may as well have been cast into the Pacific Ocean in the midst of a typhoon. Riptides grappled with her ankles, whirlpools whipped her in circles, debris-laden gusts of alcohol-rain dragged her in every direction. Ravers collided with every millimetre of her body until the multitude of sharp pains became a single, half-numb throbbing.

A glow stick-clutching fist came at her from the right, catching Mai across her temple. The eclipsed club went pure white for a moment and then her body seemed to dissolve.

…

'_That's me? No way. I'm dead?' Mai crouched over her own corpse. She wondered where the blood had come from. It stained her _I see dead people_ t-shirt. She nearly caved to the temptation to reach out and shift the slender hand off of her corpse's face, but at the last minute, she jerked her hand back with uncertainty. Would her body break apart, joints popping, like the corpses of the girls in her first kennel dream?_

_Mai struggled to her feet, but her back rammed against the top of the cage and pain shot through her like an electrical shock. Belatedly she realised that she _was_ inside the kennel cage again—despite being in the centre of the _Gin Knockers_ dance floor. Though Mai could no longer hear the music, the raving dancers continued to thrash against each other. The blackout had been replaced by black lights, and every face glowed like a porcelain mask._

_Confused Mai ran a hand across the mesh. How could she be out of her body but still trapped by the cage? Was she really sitting over her own corpse on the club's dance floor, or was the raving crowd all part of some glamour that Kennel Boy had thrown over the basement room? Wherever the cage was located, Mai did know thing and that was that her spirit had vacated its earthly shell. This had happened before, during the Rokuryo High School case when she'd been trapped in the science lab with the formalin. That time all she'd needed to do was relax, and she'd floated back into her body, but she suspected that this situation was more complex._

_Tipping her head back, she searched for anything that could prove or disprove the reality of the dream. Green spotlights roved the ceiling. The customers all looked the same to her. Before that evening, she would've attributed a man in footie pyjamas head butting a six-foot-tall lizard as a fantastical occurrence—but as she'd served four different men in pyjamas and a zoo's worth of cosplay animals, the oddities on the dance floor—while still bizarre and foreign—all looked like plausible aspects in her reality. Occasionally between the thrashing bodies, Mai glimpsed the VIP balcony. _

_Shadowed forms of leering clients draped over the railing—but amongst them glowed three figures. The first was clearly Fujiwara—the stripes on his suit glinted like threads of silver—and he was greeting a tall man wearing a fedora. Caught between them, Kiki strained toward the railing. _

_Startled and trembling, Kiki made eye contact with Mai. She mouthed something—Mai thought perhaps it was the word 'Run'—before the tall man wrapped his arms around her from behind. He followed Kiki's line of sight._

_Mai's breath caught again._

_His face was featureless—a blur._

_And still without his features, he seemed to acknowledge Mai—to almost smile in a way that Mai simply knew was sick and shrewd and predatory. And familiar. He prised Kiki away from the rail and dragged her into the darkness._

_A snickering came from the far side of the cage. A dirty, gritty, self-satisfied sound. 'Perfection! When he sees this, he'll surely come running!' Kennel Boy cackled._

_Mai crab-walked backwards, careful not to touch her own body, until she pressed against the cage door. She steadied her breaths and closed her eyes to concentrate on redefining her protective shield. Steel wool, needles, tea and thick glass. Instead of warming her with exertion, the effort left her shivering. Recognising the futility of her actions, she wormed her fingers through the mesh and fumbled for the latch._

_Her hand brushed against cool skin._

_Similar to the precursor to a migraine, a line seemed to split down the back of her right eye. Her vision strained and her skull ached. _

_If Kennel Boy faced her from the other end of the cage, it meant that whatever Mai'd touched probably belonged to the blur-faced man. But she'd just seen him upstairs…._

_Trembling she drew her hand to her chest and turned around._

_For a second she thought that Gene had managed to slip into her dream. The man crouching at the cage door wore black attire and a puzzled expression—but he was taller than her guardian and a bit broader in the shoulders. Nearly two years older than Gene's 17 years. 'Naru…' Mai mouthed. She swallowed pleading words for him to open the cage, and they seemed to curdle in her stomach._

_Terrified that Kennel Boy had somehow brought his plan to fruition, Mai jerked around and positioned her body so to hide Naru's existence as best as her bony form could provide. _

'_He'll never suspect… thinks I'm gone.' Kennel Boy's eyes were rolling back in his head as he laved his necklace of teeth with his tongue. He continued to speak, almost to himself as the words were half-mumbled and disjointed. 'Not like in Canongate. Not New York. His heart will bleed as much. More. He did this to me. Made me. He'll make me again.' Kennel Boy's eye focus on Mai from beneath heavy lids. 'I will _be_ again.'_

_Kennel Boy held his necklace of teeth up as though to examine a beautiful rope of pearls. 'This would never have happened if he'd kept his promise,' Kennel Boy continued. 'And now I'm going to rip off his cloak of genius. Shred his superior façade. Expose his maggoty guts….' _

_Caught up in the ecstasy of his own supposed-genius, Kennel Boy had somehow not noticed the appearance of his prey._

_Glancing over her shoulder, Mai winced as her retina seemed to snap taunt. Cupping her temple with one hand, she counted to ten and pushed the pain away._

_Naru peered through Mai's spirit form—clearly not seeing her—and he frowned at her body. It hurt her heart that he didn't have a stronger reaction to her corpse. True, he didn't seem pleased—but his distaste would've been appropriate for a stranger's body, not the girl that made his tea daily for about a year. Naru pulled away from the cage and weaved through the silently raving crowd. He said one word before blinking out of Mai's vision. 'Tokyo.'_

_Kennel Boy circled the cage. 'What are you looking at?' he whispered in a voice that seemed to stretch into every nook of the club._

_Mai swallowed thickly. 'This isn't real. They—the people dancing—they can't see me. This. I'm not really dead.'_

'_That's not the way it looks to me, Mai.'_

_It didn't matter that she'd seen Kiki—that Kiki had clearly seen her. She was dreaming. Never once had she had a _vision_ featuring Naru. She'd _dreamed_ of him, though, and this must be the same—merely the manifestation of her fears in a vision-like dream—because if that wasn't the case and this was a _real_ vision… well, Mai couldn't bring herself to imagine the horrible ramifications of such a reality. 'This is a dream.'_

'_There are those who say, the afterlife is nought but a six minute dream.'_

_Mai's corpse looked no different from those girls in her original kennel dream. 'I don't understand why you're doing this.'_

'_Really, and I thought it pretty obvious. I'm weaving a vision. A vision to drive a man crazy—it's a bit too rudimentary for my tastes, but it will work. Next time Oliver lets down his guard while handling something that his cute assistant once touched—a grungy yellow post-it, perhaps—he'll find a nice little vision awaiting him.'_

'Naru hates grunge. _And I'm not dead… and Naru's psychometry doesn't work like that. He sees real events from the past.'_

'_This is real. Real enough, I should say. It's one of my specialties. Something that I've been developing over the years—I should really thank both the twins for the idea. After all, I learned all about self-preservation from them. This,' Kennel Boy flicked his hand dismissively, 'this is just tinkering. Think of it like touching-up a photograph.'_

'_Touching-up?' A sickly, absinth-green light washed over the club. 'I'm telling you, I'm not dead!'_

'_But can you say that you're living? Wasting all your energy trying to block me at every turn. You can't continue for long, Mai. Keep trying, though. It's rather nice to have someone determined to pay attention to me. And I do love a little recognition. When your precious Oliver arrives, the fun will begin.'_

'_You listen to me good and hard, Kennel Boy!' The mesh bit into Mai's hands, slicing open her fingers. 'He won't come.'_

'_Kennel Boy? Is that what you call me?' He laughed until he had to wipe tears from his eyes. 'I suppose in your case the name is quite apt. Kennel Boy, huh?'_

'_Just a stupid little boy with a kennel,' Mai gritted out. 'And you'll never convince Naru to come here—no matter what you do.'_

'_Don't be ridiculous. Your memory torments that man—and I only hope that this little vision won't kill him outright. That would be such a shame. I want that pleasure. I crave it. I exist for it.'_

_Mai stared into Kennel Boy's flat, bloodshot eyes. 'You don't exist at all.'_

'_Perhaps,' Kennel Boy said. 'For now. Of course you could help me with that problem.' He rushed the cage, and Mai stumbled back away from the grasping fingers that he forced through the mesh. Tripping over her own body, she fell back against it and sunk in._

…

'Taniyama-chan! Get off the floor.' Capable hands encircled Mai's biceps.

Mai blinked up at Aoi as the older woman hauled Mai to her feet. The raving customers had cleared a small area in the dance floor—about the size of a kennel cage—to accommodate for Mai's prone body, but no one had seen fit to check on her.

Mai's knees wavered, and Aoi supported most of her body weight while she got her bearings. Green spotlights had replaced the black lights, and the music's bass once again thrummed through her body. From up in the balcony, Fujiwara stared down at her, arms crossed and thoroughly displeased. Kiki-tan was nowhere in sight.

'We've got to get you cleaned up,' Aoi said.

The side of Mai's face and her nose throbbed, and when she touched the back of her hand to both her aches, it came back smeared with blood. Confused, she allowed Aoi to lead her off the dance floor.

'Are you okay? I saw it all,' Mignon said, rushing out from behind the centre bar and taking Mai's free arm. 'I saw that guy clock you. He was huge, and there's no way that he didn't do it on purpose! He swung right for you. Senpai jumped the bar and chased after him, but I think he might have escaped.'

A metre away, Gene stood, his fists clenched at his sides, teeth gritted. He looked like he wanted to punch someone.

'I don't see why Aoi sent me home.' Mai viciously wrung out her _I see dead people_ t-shirt into her bathroom sink. The water still dripped pinkish and soapy. The stained shirt would have to be reassigned back to pyjama-wear, which meant that she'd have to spend more money to purchase additional work attire. 'I'm losing out on three hours worth of tips.'

'Is money all you think about?' Gene reclined in the empty bathtub. Ever since Mai'd thrown a fit about his annoying tendency to _haunt_, Gene'd made a good show of pretending to be alive—though his disembodied state irritated him, and this annoyance often manifested in bizarre life-mimicry. She'd learned not to question him about it or else he complained loudly. Keeping Gene as a guardian seemed to Mai like trying to turn a wildcat into a housebound tabby. In quiet moments she'd find him intently watching the birds outside or stalking the shadows with great, predatory strides. She'd once considered rolling a ball of yarn across the floor, just to see if he'd chase after it, but the action seemed cruel as he'd never be able to bat it back at her. Mai made the conscious effort to not push in the dining table chairs, so that Gene could 'sit' as he pleased. She'd even begun to collect free tourist brochures and to leave them open on the table so that Gene had something to read. It meant that the flat did not stay quite as tidy as she'd prefer, but she supposed having a flatmate—no matter how spectral—was all about compromise. 'Are you listening to me? Mai, you got _punched_. You were _gushing_ blood.'

'_Gushing?_' Mai slung the damp shirt onto the towel rack. 'Geez, Cricket-chi, there's no reason to be melodramatic. It was just a bloody nose.'

'You have a black-eye.'

Mai pulled the hood of her knitted sweater over her head and struck a little pose—shoulders slumped forward and fingertips tucked into the pockets of her jeans. 'Does it make me look tough?'

'No.'

Mai shrugged and walked through to the living room, flicking on a tableside lamp. The sun had still yet to rise.

Gene dogged her steps. 'You're avoiding the topic again. What happened to our agreement to keep all channels of communication open?'

'Is this when I point out that you negate that agreement on a daily basis, as you're still stubbornly refusing to talk about yourself?' Mai asked rhetorically. She knew Gene'd never cave to whiny complaints. Grabbing a throw blanket—she steadfastly refused to put on the heating until at least New Year's—Mai settled into the couch for yet another brain-frying session of vision-dissection. 'You want a blow-by-blow account of the dream? Fine, but this one's weird.'

Sitting on the couch opposite her, Gene's tilted head plainly said w_hen aren't your visions weird?_

'So I was sitting next to my own corpse…' Mai matter-of-factly detailed the first part of her dream to Gene. They'd only been 'partners' for three weeks, but she'd never felt so comfortable talking honestly with a guy. While Naru made her heart skip and lurch and contort into complicated yoga poses, Gene's presence kept her steady—even when they disagreed or when he was being a _total cheeky_ _git_.

_Total cheeky git_ was one of several Briticisms that Gene was taking great pleasure in teaching her. Others included _bloody Baltic_, _numpty cow, don't throw a wobbly_, and _cheaper than chips._ They'd figured out that, so long as Gene steered clear of slang, highly technical terms and proper names, Mai understood traditional English perfectly. She'd hoped that this new ability would help her manifest the language vocally when speaking to someone other than Gene, but that was proving rather more difficult. Perhaps it was nerves. When it came to speaking English to anyone other than Gene, she always knew what she wanted to say and how to say it, but the romanticised sounds rolled in the back of her mouth and flattened on her tongue.

'So Kiki saw you—is that all?' Gene asked, and Mai stumbled in her autopilot recitation. 'You're dodging some important details. I can tell.'

_I can tell_. Gene's favourite phrase.

Mai pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. 'Well, then Kennel Boy showed up and started talking.'

'That's not unexpected. You blacked out without the benefit of a protective charm.' He gestured at the workspace that lined the far wall. Only a small box of incense suggested that the folding tables were used for anything more serious than arts and crafts. Several varying types of homemade paper hung to dry from a clothesline that stretched over the area. Mai's elderly neighbour had given her the folding tables, along with several blankets and a forest's worth of plants, when the woman's jumble sale had been rained out for the fourth day in a row. 'What did he say?'

'What?' Mai massaged her skull. Maybe that punch had addled her brain because she was certainly having difficulty concentrating on the topic at hand. 'What did Kennel Boy say? At first? I'm not really sure. He was kind of mumbling—something about a canon? And hearts? And blood?'

'You need to pay more attention, Mai. We need to know who this guy is—what are his plans—'

'I know, Gene, why don't I just ring the Psychic Friends Network. I'm sure they can set you and Kennel Boy up on a nice dinner date. That way you two can chitchat—you know, since I'm such a rubbish intermediary.'

'Wouldn't that be novel. Seriously, though. What did he say?'

'I don't know. I was distracted.'

Gene raised an eyebrow.

This was the part of the vision description that Mai'd wanted to avoid. 'Naru was there,' she whispered.

'What?' Gene scooted forward on the couch and placed his hands flat against the coffee table. 'Did you talk to him?' he asked in a quiet but harsh voice.

Mai rested her forehead on her drawn knees. 'He couldn't see me. He could see my corpse, but he _couldn't see_ _me_. You know what I mean?'

'I know very well,' Gene sighed, and Mai could've slapped herself for her thoughtless choice of words. 'How did he react to seeing your corpse?'

Mai chipped at her fingernails, though her nail polish had long been flaked away. 'He didn't. I mean, seeing my corpse appeared distasteful to him—like he might look if he stumbled across a dead vagrant slumped in a doorway.'

'Impossible. Either he didn't recognise you or it wasn't really Noll.'

Mai gritted her teeth. 'It was Naru, alright.'

'And Kennel Boy, how did he react to Noll's arrival?'

Mai wished that her hair would grow out faster so that she could have something to tug on in frustration. 'That's even more strange. He didn't react either. Naru couldn't see my spirit or Kennel Boy, and Kennel Boy couldn't see Naru. Or maybe he was too out of it—I mean, he seemed intoxicated at first. It was the strangest dream, and…' Mai squirmed deeper into the couch. The movement strained her back, and hot needles seemed to lance her as the scab cracked open again. Wincing, she asked, 'I think I was totally out of my body, but…. Can you feel pain?'

Concern tightened Gene's facial features, and he came around to sit on the couch beside Mai. 'I don't understand.'

'Pain. Pain.' Mai waved her hand vaguely over her body. 'Like headaches and bruises.'

Gene reached out as though to take her hand, but he stopped himself inches from her as though he suddenly remember the futility of the action. 'You can't feel physical pain in spirit form. Psychological and emotional, yes, but not physical. Physical doesn't exist anymore.'

'But in my dream I could. It hurt to bang my back against the cage. I got a migraine-like ache behind one eye….' Mai drew a steadying breath and leaned toward Gene. 'I even felt Naru's hand for a second.'

Gene wouldn't meet her eyes. 'You weren't dead.'

'I looked pretty dead,' she said, leaning back again. She shouldn't have asked about the physicality of the spirit form. It was one of their taboo topics. They could talk for days about charms or art or Mai's dreams but…. 'Vision manipulation—like touching-up a photo. Kennel Boy said that's his speciality. That he'd been working on it a long time. That he learned it….' Mai glanced away nervously. 'So does that mean Naru wasn't there?'

'It would be nice to think, but….' Gene seemed to recollect himself, and he looked up at her again. 'Your abilities are so wonky and jumbled right now that it's more likely that you had a precognitive vision while suffering Kennel Boy's psychic attack.'

Mai hugged her knees. 'So I saw Naru walking through his psychometric vision of me being dead? Well, that's not confusing, is it?' Mai snorted bitterly. 'Apparently we don't have to worry about Naru striding into revenge-fed danger because he obviously didn't care that I was dead.'

'_Don't say that._ Can you remember any more details?' Gene hesitated a long moment. 'Sketches on the walls? On the floors?'

Mai shook her head. 'It was dark.'

Gene hunched and looked away, and Mai had the oddest feeling that he was disappointed. Disappointed in her, she supposed.

'It was really, _really_ dark. Black. With white faces all around.' Mai closed her eyes, straining to see the dream again. Her stomach churned sourly. 'And green. Green glow sticks. Green lasers. Green spotlights.'

Gene made a sound of acknowledgement—like a deep grumble in his chest. 'Green. When Noll sees a vision of death—typically from the point of view of the deceased, but not always—the scene is awash in hues of green.'

Mai gazed at her spectral friend. 'Like absinth hallucinations in films and plays?' she asked, because her vision had definitely had that delirium-feel to it.

Gene nodded.

Mai grimaced and hid her face against the blanket. Naru had seen her _dead_. Whether it was Kennel Boy's doing or the effect of spotlights in the club, his vision would've been _green_. Green standing for_ Mai is dead!_ _The girl who loves you is dead!_ _Dead and done and never able to pester you or make your tea for you again. Dead!_ 'Arrogant, frigid _git_! Unfeeling _twat_! Idiot—!' Her voice caught and broke painfully on the last word. Unable to form words harsh enough to encapsulate her heartbreak, Mai tossed a small pillow across the room with a shriek.

Gene opened his arms and reached out as though he were about to restrain her. 'Mai! He didn't recognise you! That's the only way—'

Throwing off the blanket, she marched toward the entryway before spinning to face Gene. 'He said _"Tokyo" _before blinking out! How could he have not known? How could—'

'You look markedly different, Mai.' Gene stood slowly and approached her as though she were a feral animal. 'Your short hair, your club attire—your face is all bruises and hollow, and you've dropped at least eight kilos in weight. Probably more.'

Mai wrapped her arms around her bony ribcage. 'So I'm ugly too!'

Gene threw his hands in the air. 'I'm not going to lie and tell you that you still look beautiful!'

Mai snorted indelicately and snivelled into her sleeve. 'I've never been beautiful.' She mopped up her tears and drew in a wet breath. 'It shouldn't matter how I look. If Naru were to gain 50 kilos and dress up like a neon-loving hobo, I'd still recognise him!'

Gene leaned down and tipped his head up so that he could look into Mai's bloodshot eyes. 'Confident words—but what if his face was obscured? Could he see your face, Mai?'

She shook her head.

'Don't judge him so harshly.'

Drawing another sniffling breath, Mai clenched her fists. _'You always side with your brother.'_

'My brother is always right.'

The absurd and un-Gene-like comment brought Mai's head up, and she cocked an inquisitive eyebrow.

Gene didn't miss the expression, and he smiled for a moment. 'Well, my brother is _almost _always right—for an idiot scientist.'

Per usual Gene's sarcastic comment broke through Mai's exhaustion-propelled outburst. The thought that Naru hadn't recognised her still _hurt_, but Gene was probably right—such an expectation was beyond reasonable for someone like Mai. No longer feeling as though she'd like a tear the flat apart, Mai returned to the couch—though she couldn't stop trembling.

Her insides seemed hollowed. It was a feeling she was getting used to, slowly and to her distaste. Terror, rage, pain, desolation—they'd become the marbles that jangled inside her empty soul. Mai wasn't sure if she preferred when they rattle around and filled the void with movement, or when they sat heavy and waiting, allowing the nothingness to grow larger.

Gene took the couch across from her again. 'What's really bothering me is that someone punched you. Purposely punched you.'

'It was a rave—people's fists were flying everywhere,' she said dully, drawing the blanket over her again. The fabric had already lost all its heat.

'Mai, we all saw it.' Gene loosed a frustrated sigh. 'A man wearing a dark coat sought _you_ out and punched you on purpose.'

'If you saw it, why weren't you at my side like _immediately_?'

Insulted Gene sat back and crossed his arms. 'What could've I done? I'm incorporeal, and Aoi-san was closest to you. The head barman leapt the bar and ran after the perpetrator—I started to follow as well, but…' His defensive expression fell away beneath the hands that he scrubbed over his face. 'I screwed up, okay. That barman sprinted faster than I ever could. They were heading toward the back lounges and I was falling behind. I got worried about you and indecisive, so I turned back. I figured if anyone could catch that bastard, it would be the corporeal barman and VIP security guys and not me.'

Why did everything always come back to their taboo topic? Mai curled on her side in a foetal position. Her eyelids, heavy with exhaustion, slipped downward. 'So do you think Kennel Boy somehow possessed the man that punched me?'

'I don't see how that's possible,' Gene said wearily. 'Kennel Boy's still trapped on some alternate plane, and you're the breaching element between his reality and ours.'

'What if he's contacting someone else as well?' she asked, touching a hand to her black eye. It throbbed but felt no worse than her back or her nose—and none of these pains even registered when compared to the one that lived in her heart.

'I've told you this before—you're special, Mai. There aren't many other people in the world that possess your bizarre combination of abilities. Pre-cog. Post-cog. Astral projection with tracing abilities. Let alone a perfect medium. The likelihood of someone similar being here in Tokyo… No. It is too unlikely. No one else could bring him through.'

'Ugly and a freak. _Thanks, Cricket-chi._' Mai yawned, and her body felt like it were made of lead. 'I thought I was just a convenient target to get at Naru.'

Gene had gotten up, and he stood by her worktable. 'To start, perhaps, but Kennel Boy has realised your potential.'

Mai struggled to sit up. 'So you're sure that I'm Kennel Boy's only contact with reality? He's still stuck on some alternate plane, and he can't possess someone in our reality? How can you be positive? And if Kennel Boy can't manifest here or possess someone, was it just a coincidence that a random man in a suit decided to punch me?'

'That seems unlikely.'

'So what happened?' she asked, swinging her feet to the floor.

'I'm honestly not sure,' Gene whispered. 'You need to write yourself a charm before going to sleep.'

'I know,' Mai said, slumping toward the worktables. 'Why do we always talk ourselves in circles?'

'Because we're too much alike.'

Mai pulled a piece of homemade paper off the clothesline and sat down with a calligraphy brush and inkwell. 'Will Naru come when he sees that vision?'

'Probably.'

Drawing several deep breaths, she attempted to muster some energy, but her concentration slipped in every direction but that of charm writing. 'Bou-san and Ayako should be back soon. I wonder if they could help—'

Gene made an inarticulate sound.

'You don't want me to tell them?' she asked, putting down the calligraphy brush.

'Will you come clean about the lies? That you work in a nightclub? That you've got the yakuza riding your back? Will you admit to facing off against a Gaki without any proper precautions?'

He was right—as always. She couldn't tell Bou-san and Ayako. Firstly, because it would put them in the path of the yakuza, and secondly they would go mental if they found out about her situation. Moreover what if Kennel Boy decided to use Bou-san and Ayako to get to Naru too?

'If Noll comes….' Gene's voice faded out for a moment, and he looked away from Mai with a guilty expression. 'There's something I want to ask you to do. That is… to _not do_. Mai, if Noll does return to Japan, please do not tell him that I'm here. It will just hurt him.'

Mai picked up the calligraphy brush with more determination. 'I already knew that, idiot.'


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_Cold and lush, the grass soaked through Mai's pyjama bottoms as she squatted behind a gravestone, heart pounding. Under the normal circumstances of her marathon dreams, she expected terror to gradually stoke her adrenalin levels until it racked her body—so it didn't bode well that she'd only just arrived and nothing yet had happened. Yet her already her trembling legs could barely support her._

_What had triggered this instantaneous feeling? The cemetery's stark contrast of grey granite—grave markers, mausoleums, gravel paths and crumbling walls—against the luminous green quality of the finely manicured grass? Or the silence? A stone and mortar city sprawled above and just beyond the cemetery's ancient outer walls—but even it seemed terrified to make a sound._

_Mai didn't dare take a breath._

_Gravel shifted from somewhere close. Slow, scuffing steps._

_Mai's knees unlocked enough to allow her to scoot around the headstone and scramble down onto a sunken pathway. She lay prone on her stomach and turned her face toward the approaching sound._

_An older gentleman wearing jeans and a t-shirt meandered along the pathway. Gravel shifted beneath his sandals. He reminded her of a bohemian academic. Recognition grasped Mai tight, like icy vines pinning her to the ground. The Academic, that's what she'd call him. It was just easier to give some sort of name to anyone that appeared more than once in her visions. He'd be The Academic, as surely as the man that always shot himself at the top of the hills was named The Hill Suicide_ _and the decomposing child that Mai often saw in shopping mall visions was named Shambling Shopaholic Shorty._

_The Academic looked the same as he had that day she'd lost all control of her feet and run headlong into his strange little studio. He'd looked her up and down from over his wire-framed glasses and had asked her if he could help her, and—no, she didn't want help from him._

_It was weird but Mai got the distinct impression that The Academic was visiting—not from afar, but still not from within. Which in and of it self seemed odd because of course he'd be a visitor. People don't live in cemeteries. _

_A colossal wolfhound—ill-groomed and darkly brindled in colouring—trotted out from behind a headstone. With hooded eyes, it matched the man's pace and looked neither left nor right. The gravel never shifted. Never crunched beneath its huge paws._

_Mai shivered with apprehension._

_The hound looked up, red eyes lit with fire, and it fixed its gaze on Mai. It lowered its head and curled its lips as it growled—a low, hungry sound. And then its muscles coiled and sprang forward._

_Mai screamed. Her lungs burned with the effort. And yet no sound swamped the cemetery. She thrashed and strained to stand, to rush to safety, and yet her body remained immobile._

'_Enough.' The Academic's voice came from directly above Mai. Strong and smooth and commanding. 'Enough, Shuck.'_

_Mai's muscles unlocked, and she wrenched around to locate the source of the voice._

_Nothing. The cemetery was empty._

_Mai leaped to her feet and braced for an attack. Nothing. The hound. The Academic They were gone._

'_What the hell was that?' Mai whispered, brushing gravel off her pyjamas with trembling fingers._

_She slowly wandered between headstones, hyper alert and waiting for even the slightest shift in the air. Assuming that this was a marathon terror, something would happen soon. Probably not zombies, though. Cemetery, zombies. Too obvious. It would be something weird._

_Though what could be weirder than that hound, she wasn't sure. Her stomach twisted._

_A church sat at the front of the cemetery, and beyond that stood the narrow and cobbled streets of a city. Bustling. More than bustling. Teeming and frantic. People pointed, yelled, waved their arms about like actors in a silent film. It seemed that Mai'd gone deaf._

_As the panicked throng swept Mai up the steep street, she caught sight of a tourist board beside the cemetery gates. _Canongate Cemetery_. High above the street there flew a banner. _Edinburgh Film Festival_. If she could believe the sign, she was back in June of this year._

_People crushed together as they moved, and pinched between several large men, Mai's feet barely touched the ground. Just as she started to wonder if they'd carry her to the very crest of the street, the crowd stopped and Mai finally stood on solid ground again. She used her compact size to her advantage, squeezing between people—occasionally even crawling. She had to see. Had to know. She wished she didn't._

_A university-aged guy in a blue blazer stood before the crowd. He fitted his cupped hands together, trapping nothing but air, and bowed his head in concentration. His fashionably tousled hair obscured his face. He shook his hands as though he held dice, and with a twist of his fingers, he held up a lit match._

_The crowd applauded enthusiastically. Mai glanced around in confusion—was it such an impressive trick? She'd see Naru make a coin talk. _That_ had been impressive._

_The guy blew out the match and cupped his hands together again. This time he produced two lit matches. The crowd started to roar, but quickly dissolved into quivers of anticipation as the guy blew out the two matches._

_He controlled the crowd absolutely, and even Mai couldn't keep her heart pumping at a calm pace as the guy moved on to his final trick. Again he cupped his hands and shook them about. As expected, he twisted is fingers and produced three lit matches._

_The crowd went mental, cheering and rushing forward while the matches slipped from his fingers._

_He went up in flames like a straw man. People continued to cheer and chant even as the guy screamed in agony and rapidly disintegrated into a heap of soot._

'_Strange,' Mai whispered to herself and turned around to find a way out of the rioting masses._

_Time dropped away. People disappeared, simply blinking from existence, and the sun rapidly fell behind the towering stone buildings._

'_You shouldn't be out here alone.'_

_Mai jerked around—she didn't recognise the voice but it was never a good sign when people acknowledged her in the dreamscape._

'_The police are saying three girls have disappeared in the last few weeks,' a man said as he wrapped an arm around a scantily dressed girl._

_She smacked him playfully on the shoulder. 'Oh Hamish, you don't have to scare me into your bed.' She giggled and stumbled about—oddly reminding Mai of Kiki—before grabbing the man by his tie and leading him away. 'Let's stop at the chip shop on the way, though. Brown sauce and cheese makes me horny.'_

'_And somehow this dream is getting more and more bizarre,' Mai whispered as she watched them totter up the street. Not wanting to follow them and find out what other oddities spiced up their sex life, Mai glanced over her shoulder and down the street toward the cemetery. She didn't want to go that way either—up the street it was, then._

_Two steps forward, and the street narrowed between two glass and metal buildings. Mai could safely bet that she was no longer in the same city. Seeing as she had a bad track record with alleyways, walking further into this one was not a smart move._

_Unfortunately a glance over her shoulder told her that she was already standing at the end. A rubbish tip and a brick wall barred any other exit._

_Debris blocked her path. She waded through bags of trash, broken crates, and mounds of glass bottles. Her gut told her that she had to keep moving forward, but her heart kept stuttering._

_Instead of leading to a street, the alley abruptly ended with mesh fencing._

_And in the clearing beyond the fence knelt a teenage girl—maybe fifteen years old. She held a cup, which she rested in her lap. __Her scraggly and poorly dyed blond hair obscured her face. Newspapers littered the ground around her._

_Pressing her hands against the mesh, Mai belatedly realized that it wasn't part of a fence but rather a large cage. A kennel._

_And Mai stood in front of the door._

_The girl sighed, lifting the cup to her lips._

'_Don't,' Mai hissed. _

_Recognising that it wasn't the smartest move in the world, Mai squatted down beside the kennel door. It was a really dumb move. Idiotic. If she opened the door for the girl, logic followed that Mai would find herself shoved inside. But she still fumbled with the latch. No matter how many deaths and horrific visions she witnessed, she couldn't let herself become so desensitised that she allowed an innocent victim to suffer when she could potentially help. On the day that finally happened, she'd know that the _Taniyama Mai_ that was a worthwhile human being had finally died. Her hand trembled as she unlatched the cage. _

_When the girl did not move, Mai opened the door wider. 'Come quickly before he returns,' she said, kicking at the debris that caught on the door._

_The cup quivered in the girl's hand before she set it aside. She crawled forward on hands and knees. Each moment painfully slow._

_Gesturing frantically, Mai strained her ears for any hint of Kennel Boy's arrival. She stretched her arm inside the cage, hoping the girl would grab it and allow Mai to haul her out._

'_Will you help?' she whispered._

'_That's why I'm here. So please, just take my hand!'_

'_Do you promise?'_

_Mai opened her mouth to say _of course she promised_, but the words caught in her throat._

'_Will you help?' the girl whispered again. An almost singsong quality wove into her voice. 'Do you promise?'_

'_I….' Mai froze, her legs as gelatinous as they'd been at the start of her dream. Even as she pulled her hand from inside the cage, Mai knew it was too late._

_The girl seized her wrist in an iron grip. 'My brother will be so pleased,' she said._

'_Your brother…?' She didn't look like Kennel Boy—ethnically speaking there was an obvious different. Despite the dreadful blond hairstyle, this girl was clearly Japanese—meaning Kennel Boy was… not. It seemed so simple. Kennel Boy was not Japanese, and yet it had never occurred to her. But where? Where was he from? What did he actually look like?_

_Agony, like a metal rod being rammed through her skull, exploded through her brain._

_The foulest stench of rotten flesh burst across Mai's face. 'What are you thinking about?' the girl whispered. 'Never mind. You can wait inside.' She yanked Mai into the cage._

_Arms and legs of every colour, size, and stage of decomposition surrounded Mai. It was as though she were drowning in a carnival's ball pool filled with dismembered body parts. Flesh crumbled off the bones, and joints popped like legs torn from a roast chicken. Fingers and toes, stiff with rigor mortis, gouged and scratched. Every time Mai got a knee up, something would shift and her other leg would slip furthering into the oozing, putrid pit. Spreading her arms wide, she attempted to float atop the sea of corpses, but as she pulled her right leg to the surface, something warm and moving snared her ankle._

_Kicking out and arching upward shifted the bodies, and her right shoulder and arm lost their purchase on surface area and sunk below. Another warm binding encircled her wrist and dragged her under. Rancid puss smeared across Mai's face, but it was too late to draw a breath to scream._

_A bell shattered the vision._

…

Spine welded straight, Mai shot up in bed and kicked off the duvet. She lashed out with a clumsy hand to turn off the jarring alarm.

'And the monster arises,' Gene said from his perch beside Mai's feet.

Trembling fingers searching out any unpleasant traces from her dream, Mai tried to calm herself by breathing deeply and counting backwards from ten. When she reached 'one' and her heart still thudded in her throat, she started the countdown again. 'We've got to come up with better protection charms,' Mai finally managed to say.

'I know they are horrific, but you need to ride out these marathon visions until you've found balance—'

'I saw the kennel… but it was big. Really big,' she interrupted, scooting to the edge of the bed and slipping on a pair of mules. She stood and headed for the stairs. 'A girl pulled me in.'

'Pulled you in? Did you approach it? Are you crazy?' Gene asked, nipping after her.

'She called for help.' Or at least Mai had assumed that she had. Why hadn't she thought of that before?

'You are crazy,' he said, and she swivelled around to scowl at him. 'And scary. When are you going to throw out that t-shirt? The bloodstains are disgusting.'

Panicked that she _had_ pulled a trace out of her dream, Mai wrenched on the hem of her shirt and stared down. A small hole tore wide near the stomach, but other than the rip, the shirt looked exactly the same it had when she'd put it on before going to bed. Despite a great deal of soaking and scrubbing, the brown smears from her bloody nose and the knock on the head had never properly washed out.

'I know I should throw it out but…' Mai rubbed the thin material between her fingers. 'Bou-san gave it to me. He said it was a talisman against bad dreams.'

'Bullocks,' Gene scoffed. 'Exactly how many con-artists did my brother hire?'

Mai swallowed a sharp retort. This wasn't the first time Gene had complained about the motley crew that had formed SPR's Irregulars—and every time Mai struggled to recall that Gene didn't _know_ Bou-san, Ayako, John and Masako and that even _she'd_ been overcritical of each person before getting to know them. Regardless Gene's little snipes about her short-lived SPR family did grate her, and they always reminded her that pretension, pride and severity ran deep in the personalities of both Davis twins.

'I'm sure Bou-san only meant it as a joke,' she muttered, proceeding down the stairs.

'Obviously. That shirt would be more useful as pulp to make your charm paper.'

Mai nearly tripped at the notion. 'Would it?'

'I was joking.'

They'd been trying everything to increase the staying power of her charms, but still they couldn't surpass the 6-hour time limit. Several texts suggests that Mai use natural elements—like blades of grass, pressed flowers or seeds—to strength her charms, and rather than using these elements in half-comprehended sutras, mantras or spells, she'd been simply adding them to her homemade spell paper. Unfortunately one night a certain element would seem to work, but the next it would have no effect. Another text suggested using objects with which she had a solid rapport or that held distinct memories, but as Mai had lost everything in the fire, she'd thought she possessed no object worthy enough to incorporate into a charm. It had never occurred to her to cut up the _I see dead people_ t-shirt.

'I don't think I can actually make pulp out of the fabric, but maybe I can mix in threads. It won't change the texture any more than the grass. Do you think it'll work?'

'I wonder,' Gene said and shrugged again, but Mai was sure he was really thinking: _at least I won't have to look at those nasty bloodstains again._ 'You're avoiding the subject. Again.' Gene continued down into the living area, leaving Mai standing on the stairs. 'What happened when you stupidly opened the cage and got pulled in? Did Kennel Boy show up?'

Making a mental note to come back to the idea of using the shirt in her next spell paper batch, she hustled into the chilly kitchen to put on the kettle. 'Nah,' she said, pulling the cafetière from the cupboard and grabbing the ground coffee from the fridge. 'I just went for a swim in a pool filled with a thousand or so dismembered corpses.'

Gene watched her speculatively from his seat at the dining table. 'Is that really the kind of thing you should say in a blasé tone?'

'Probably not.'

While she waited for the kettle to boil, she idly stared at the calendar stuck on her pinboard. Black script marred every date until New Years Day—_Gin Knockers 7pm to 8am_. 'I was thinking that I should ring Bou-san tonight. He and Ayako have been back from Australia for over a week now. They'll be concerned if I don't contact them.'

Gene shrugged, not looking up from the paper-strewn dining table. At each museum and gallery that they visited, he always had Mai pick up an exhibition guide—sometimes at cost—and he seemed to garner a great deal of pleasure looking over them. In fact sometimes she thought he enjoyed that more than he enjoyed perusing the tourist guides and newspapers for new venues to visit. In a funny way, it reminded Mai of how Naru used to pour over his maps.

Not for the first time, Mai wondered if Gene felt threatened by her relationship with the others. If maybe he worried that once they resumed their place in Mai's life, he'd be forgotten or pushed aside or left to tour Tokyo alone. Of course Mai would never let that happen, but she had to admit that a little more variety in her social life would be welcome—and this admittance swashed her with guilt because Gene was sacrificing his afterlife for _her_. It really sucked for him, seeing as he was stuck on a plane wherein his was incorporeal and only able to interact with her. These anxieties fed her fear that Gene would get bored or sick of her and that he would abandon his position as guardian. If that happened Mai wasn't sure that she could hold herself together any longer.

In fact she knew that the only reason she'd not gone mad was because she had her dear spectral friend by her side. She tried to ease his situation in everyway possible. Most recently she'd initiated several games of blackjack—of course, she always played the dealer. She also took him to galleries at least four times a week, read tourist guides aloud, and followed the Rugby League World Cup stats—all activities involving a great deal of English and none being to Mai's extracurricular tastes. She only hoped that all her efforts made Gene's afterlife a little more bearable.

'Have you figured out what you'll tell Bou-san and Ayako?' he asked.

Mai shrugged. 'A colleague got me a good deal on a new and better flat, so I moved house.'

'That's it?'

'Sure,' she said, taking the kettle off the boil. She kept her hands steady and practiced pretending like lying to SPR's ex-Irregulars wasn't a big deal and that she felt no remorse. Merely the idea of lying was wearing ulcers into her stomach. 'Keep it simple to start—because we both know that nothing stays simple for long.'

_Like a child pawing at an out-of-tune pianoforte, the carousel music lurched ominously but stumbled on and on and on. The same phrase looping. Mai braced herself as the vision burned into focus._

_Frescos of happy children dressed in Victorian costumes adorned the carousel ceiling. Mai remained stationary in the centre of the spinning colours and large, theatrical lighting. Red and white striped posts wove in and out of the ceiling—though when the music lurched, the posts too seemed to struggle with their rhythm._

_A gust of cool night air slid over Mai's body. Her frayed pyjamas seemed to capture the cold and press it hard against her body, and Mai itched as though all the moisture were being drawn from her skin. Chafing her arms only made it worse._

_She sucked in several deep breaths, preparing to face whatever was making her so uncomfortable, but when she went to gaze down at herself, her eyes were instead drawn to the carousel's red and white poles again. At the top they looked like candy canes, but towards the middle they narrowed and the spiralling stripes were faded and marred by brownish splatters._

_Her stomach heaved, her bellybutton seemed to pull toward her back, and her knees weakened. Swallowing thickly Mai shook her head and stubbornly stared straight ahead. She refused to look down any further._

_Lukewarm liquid surrounded her feet and slipped between her toes. She closed her eyes and tilted her head downward before opening them again._

_Blood. Just blood. Mai remained very still as she cast her gaze across the sunken platform on which she stood. A river of blood flowed slowly toward her from all directions. Standing in the partially congealed fluid did not make her shriek and cry—and this bothered her. And that she was more bothered about her own indifference than_ the source of the blood _bothered her even more. _What kind of insensitive person was she becoming?

_The carousel music lurched again, and a tremulous whinny split the stagnant air._

_Mai jerked her head in the direction of the sound and then stumbled backward—a hand clasped over her gagging mouth._

_A dozen deformed horse corpses lied in heaps on the carousel's rotating platform. The stripped posts lanced through their flesh to the music's staccato rhythm. A dappled pony in the outermost row collapsed on its side and convulsed. Its legs kicked out, hooves scrabbling against the floor, its neck corded and strained, but it could not free itself from the piercing post._

_Mai was stumbling over cold horseflesh before she even realised that she'd moved. Blood slicked the hardwood platform, and she skidded on her knees, ignoring the splatter. The pony continued to lash out, so Mai crawled around to its back. She tried to find a rhythm in the post's lancing—to anticipate the moment it would rising up and the longest it would remain poised before rocketing downward—but the carousel music became more disjointed, and she knew that, even if she could physically push such a large animal, the vision would never allow her the opportunity to save the pathetic beast._

_Resting her forehead on the pony's damp and trembling back, she combed her fingers through its mane and prayed that it would give in to death soon._

_Three gunshots rang out in succession._

_Mai sprung to her feet only to be brought to her knees by a wave of nausea. _

_Her palms pressed down against cold, dry tile. The kitchen was the industrial sort. Steel worktops. Pots and pans hung from ceiling racks. Appliances thrummed and clunked. Somewhere in the distance, children shouted and laughed._

'_You've got to believe me, Pitt,' a burly man whimpered. Duct tape bound his hands behind his back and strapped him to a chair. His voice cracked as he pleaded. 'I'm not lying to you. You know me!'_

'_That I do.' The second man, Pitt, was a ferrety fellow with a neatly trimmed beard._

'_Come here, boy,' he barked._

_The man strapped to the chair whinnied and strained, making Mai think of the poor horse in the carousel. 'Pitt. Pitt! Why would I lie? Why? Why!'_

'_That is what we are going to find out,' Pitt the ferrety man said. 'Now get over here, boy! Or. Else.'_

_Mai's stomach plummeted. Whatever 'or else' inferred, it pushed Mai to tears. Covering her face, she rocked back and forth. Orbs of dread lodged in her throat, constricting her breath and making it impossible to swallow._

_Fabric brushed by her shoulder. A pale, dark-haired boy of perhaps eight years stood with his back to her. Tremors racked his arms. In one hand he held a black ball._

_The man in the chair went wild._

'_Do it, boy!'_

_Tentatively—_reluctantly, t_he boy lifted one arm._

_Mai grabbed for the boy's shoe but a blast sent her sprawling backward. Pain bloomed on the back of her head, and Mai flinched and squinted against the shift in light. The mid-day sun washed out most of the scene—everything but the back of that dark-haired child._

'_I won't,' he hissed. He clenched his black ball in both hands and shook it brutally. 'I… I am…' Holding the ball up, he roared. His neck corded with rage. 'I am not a Magic 8 Ball!' he screamed, launching the ball through a large window. Glass sprayed everywhere, throughout the well-appointed living room inside and across the patio where the boy stood in absolute stillness._

_Mai stood clumsily. She wanted to do something—anything, but…. She reached for the boy's shoulder with trembling fingers._

'_Oh my god, what happened?' A blond woman rushed onto the patio. She too reached for the boy, but he jerked to the side—hands up, arms drawn close, shoulders hunched up around his neck._

'_Don't you touch me!' he cried. 'I'll kill you.'_

_Mai didn't know why, but her heart was broken. _

…

'Mai. Mai, wake up.'

Mai curled in tighter on herself until her knees pressed against her tear-damped eyes. She shivered uncontrollably beneath her duvet.

'Mai, what's wrong?' Gene whispered.

Snuffling, she struggled to sit upright in her bed. 'Nothing. Just another marathon dream.' Glancing at her alarm clock, she swung her trembling legs to the side. 'You shouldn't have let me sleep for so long. We missed going to the _Raindrops_ exhibition today. We'll go tomorrow, okay?'

…

_The right side of Mai's yukata wrapped over the left, which was definitely not correct since she was relatively positive that she was not dead._

_Although she was back in the grey and green Canongate Cemetery again, so maybe she was dead._

_And maybe she should stop worrying about a stupid thing like how she was fused into corpse-garb and start worrying about the possibility—nay, probability that the wolfhound was going to appear at any second._

_This wasn't a particular scene that she wished to experience again. It was different from the repeated gallery riot. There she had no part to play—here felt far more dangerous. Kicking off her sandals and hiking up the hem of her yukata, Mai darted for the front of the cemetery and the street beyond. _

_A little girl in a yellow sundress waited for her at the gate. 'Stay?' she asked._

_Mai shook her head and pushed out into the crowded street. _

_Again the horde of people swept Mai up the cobble street until she was crushed shoulder to shoulder. If she crawled to the front of the crowd, all she'd see was The Match Magician go up in flames—and so Mai twisted around to continue up the hill. _

_More and more people joined flooded the street, and with every step forward that she took, the crowd swept her back three steps. The dream wanted her at the front of the crowd, and fighting it would only exhaust her—and still she grappled forward._

'_This is so stupid!' she shouted to no one in particular._

_The crowd spit her out, and she landed on her tailbone._

'_Fine,' she said, twisting around so that she could look at the familiar scene of The Match Magician—except that he wasn't there._

_Black smoke billowed from the bottom floors of the tenement building._

_Sound—sirens and shouting—cut in and out. A buzzing began building in Mai's ears. Like the gradual approach of swarming bees. Every time she blinked, black floaters warped her vision._

_The crowd heaved forward, spitting out another person._

_Lin._

_He scrambled to his feet, and before Mai could shout his name, he rushed headlong into the burning tenement._

_Mai's yukata tripped her up again and again as she attempted to follow him. The moment she crossed into the building the black smoke wrapped around her. Swallowed her. It threw her to the ground, dragging her deep into the building. She crashed against walls, snagged on doors. Her bloodied fingers slipped every handhold. The stone floors gave way to stairs and then to dirt floor, and then more and more stairs. And all the while she could not secure a single breath._

_Finally she rolled to a halt facedown on a cold floor—and Mai kept her eyes clenched tight. She knew where she was. She didn't need to see. She could feel the newspapers._

'_Stop. I'm sorry,' a woman whimpered. 'I'm sorry, so please stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.'_

'_You make it stop.'_

_Mai cracked her eyes open enough to see Blur Face wrapping the woman's hands around the black-bladed knife and helping her press it against her own neck._

'_Don't,' Mai whispered._

'_Your gift will not go to waste,' Blur Face said and blood sprayed across the room._

…

'Gift.'

'What, Mai?'

Mai sat up in her bed and held up her fingers for inspection. They were fine. Not even a broken nail.

'I….' She glanced toward Gene, who was sitting on the floor with a crossword puzzle and a copy of _Gallery Space Tokyo_. 'It's…. I…. Nothing. Have… have you figured out all the answers for your puzzle? Do you want me to write them in?'

'No, but there is a new exhibition at the Watanabe Gallery.' He wiggled an eyebrow. 'It's on the way to work.'

Mai yawned and stretched as she tried to shake off the dream. 'Fine. But I need coffee first.'

'You're the boss.'


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Watanabe Gallery hosted everything from travelling exhibitions to art school functions. Over the weeks, Gene and Mai had visited it four times and never seen the same painting, photograph, etching or sculpture twice. Tucked away on a side street, it was located only a 15-minute walk from Gin Knockers.

Today, the blinds were uncharacteristically closed in the glass doorway; however, all the lights appeared to be on inside.

'I guess the new exhibition isn't ready yet,' Mai said to Gene.

Gene stuck his head through the door and peered inside. Mai squirmed. He so rarely acted like a ghost that sometimes she forgot that he could just walk through walls.

Stepping back onto the sidewalk, Gene adjusted his hair—more out of habit than necessity. 'They're still setting everything up,' he said, disappointed. 'Most everything is still in crates.'

'I guess we'll come back tomorrow—'

The front door jerked open, and Mai stumbled back with surprise. The gallery curator, Watanabe Ume, chuckled. '_Tomorrow_,' she said good-naturedly.

Mai bowed apologetically. Due to the gallery's intimate setting, and quite possibly Mai's tendency to visit just before closing hours, she'd become familiar with the curator. The well-polished woman always overlooked Mai's scruffy appearance and took great pride in explaining the new collections.

Today, however, she appeared harried. She bowed to someone just out of view, and Mai glimpsed the chaotic space beyond. A large box sat at the centre of the gallery and crated-frames leaned against the large white walls. The usual chairs and benches had been removed.

'No _thank you_ for understanding,' a familiar voice chirped, and peppy little Atari, the naïve volunteer from Saint Giles, hurried out into the street. 'The proceeds from this sale will do so much good at the shelter. We really appreciate this, Watanabe-san.'

'Please inform Father Endo that next time I'll need more than 12 hours notice if he wishes to submit another piece to the charity auction,' Watanabe said with a stiff smile. 'And please impress upon him the fact that as the owner and curator of this gallery, I do have the final say on what we consider appropriate to display and auction.'

Atari continued to bow, backing up until she nearly stumbled into the street. Mai grabbed her arm to steady the girl, and Atari looked up in delighted surprise.

'Oh Taniyama-san, you're alive!' Atari gasped, completely forgetting about the curator.

The gallery door snapped closed.

'What are you doing here, Atari-san?' Mai asked, frowning at the girl's rumpled uniform.

'I was delivering a piece of art that Father Endo acquired. Watanabe Gallery is having a charity auction, and we're hopping to make a little money for new futons.' Atari glanced around and then whispered: 'Most of the futons at Saint Giles have _bugs_.'

'I know,' Mai muttered as Atari began to tug her down the street. Mai glanced over her shoulder. Gene had his head through the gallery door again. He really had no patience.

'So tell me about you. When you disappeared, I thought for sure you'd died.' The way the girl chattered on, she might as well have been talking about this season's handbags. 'But Father Endo said he thought you were just fine—and well, Father Endo knows best. Oh but you should stop by. We've done lots of fundraising through charity auctions, so now we have a new canteen and a proper Hoover.'

Mai strained to locate Gene, but he was a good nine-metres back and frowning up at the gallery sign.

'_I thought_ we should install new showers before improving the canteen, but Father Endo is concerned about how many walls we'd need to take down in the basement. Apparently putting new support beams in would be _very_ expensive, but you'd think he'd go ahead with it. I don't know how many unused rooms there are down there. It is _ridiculous_!'

'Let's come back tomorrow,' Gene said, hurrying to Mai's side and keeping pace with her. He talked right over Atari and it wasn't until the girl started to pull her in the direction of Saint Giles that Mai realised the girl's intentions.

'Atari-san, I'm sorry,' Mai said, freeing herself from the girl's clingy grasp. 'I have to get to work.'

Atari's face fell. 'Oh dear, Taniyama-san, you aren't still selling your body on the street, are you? Father Endo will be so disappointed.'

Mai rolled her eyes. 'I've never been a prostitute, Atari-san. I'm a barmaid.'

'Riiiiiight.'

'At Gin Knockers, which is in that direction,' Mai pointed in the opposite direction from Saint Giles. 'It was nice to catch up with you.'

'Fine,' Atari said tightly. 'It was nice to see you again. Good to know you're alive.' She smacked Mai on the shoulder. 'I'll tell Father Endo that I saw you.'

'You really don't need to do that,' Mai gritted out, massaging her now aching shoulder.

'He'll be so happy that you're well. Now remember, when you decide you are ready to cleanse your soul and become part of the greater good, we'll be there waiting for you with open arms.' Atari wagged her fingers before trotting down the sidewalk.

'Do you think rainbows shine out of her arse?' Gene asked.

'Only when she's not vomiting pixy dust.' Mai shuddered with revulsions. She actually couldn't wait to get to Gin Knockers where people might tell her to _shut the fuck up_, but only after they listened to half of what she said.

…

_A generator clunked. The air was thick with the smell of bok choi, moulding peaches and rancid meat. Without even opening her eyes, Mai knew where she stood. In an unwashed refrigerator._

_Shouldering the door open, she stepped out __onto the steel beam of a building under construction—her toes hung over a 200-metre drop. An unfamiliar city stretched for miles, and the lights reflected orange in the overcast night sky._

'_In my world heroes are masochists.' A man in a three-piece-suit and a hardhat stood at Mai's left. He stared down at the city, and the pistol that hung loosely at his side quivered and smoked. 'And love is a human failing. And the witness is dually obliged to atone for my sin.' He placed the barrel of the gun in his open mouth._

_Mai faced forward, closed her eyes, and waited for the scene change._

_Back in the unwashed refrigerator. Great. Another looping terror. She cracked the door open again, but as she did two voices came from the darkness beyond—distorted like a recording played back too slow._

'_We've got to leave, Stephen.'_

'_But, Fa—'_

'_I told you not to call me that. I'm not your fucking father. Get the other two. Now.'_

_Something cracked against the floor. _

_The voices continued, not even pausing at the sound. 'Why do they have to come with us? I'm just as good as them. Better. We don't need them.' _

'_Don't fool yourself. You'll never do what he does.'_

_A black ball rolled against the refrigerator, and a familiar, pale, dark-haired boy knelt down and reached to retrieve it._

'_Fine, I'll get just _him_. I'll kill the other.'_

_The boy frozen, clasping the ball to his chest._

'_You fool. Do you want to kill us all?'_

_The boy jerked around, overturning a pan. Even before it clattered to the ground, the boy sprinted for the door. Mai flung herself after him, stumbling through the industrial kitchen, past Pitt and out into the street._

_The boy was already ten metres in front of her, running flat out, but his voice seemed to come from behind her: 'Go! Go! Go! Don't stop! Don't stop!'_

_And she didn't. She dashed along the frost-heaven sidewalk as though the wolfhound itself were nipping at her heels. She ran until her lungs burned. People turned to watch her. A postman. An old woman. A mother and child. A man and his dog. A cop._

_The boy took a sharp turn behind a tall fence. Underestimated her momentum, Mai smacked into the side of a house before following the boy down a narrow drive._

_Pitt held the boy against the fence by his throat. The boy gagged. Clawed. Flailed._

_And in that moment she only wanted one thing._

_Pitt._

_Dead._

_Something snapped inside her. A barrier she hadn't realised she had. Blackness swamped her vision and she screamed._

_The world screamed._

_One exquisite cacophony of agony._

_Liquid, hot and coppery, lashed her face._

…

'Mai!'

'What, Gene?'

'You're covered in blood.'

'Huh?'

'Blood!'

Sprawled across her bed, Mai absently wiped the back of her hand across her face. It came away red.

Gene loomed over her, eyes frantic and searching. 'Where are you hurt?'

'I'm not.' She sat up and scooted to the foot of the bed. 'I'm not hurt.'

'But the blood?'

'Not mine.' Mai frowned at the red splatter. Just another set of stains on another t-shirt. 'Great, now I've got to take another shower.'

'Could you be any less bothered?' Gene snapped.

'I don't know. Maybe.' With every sadistic marathon dream, Mai felt another piece of her soul become cold and deadened, and it became more difficult for her to maintain her cheerful exterior during her waking hours—but that wasn't an additional anxiety that she wanted to place on Gene's shoulders, and so she added: 'When you spend most days mopping up vodka- and ramen-vomit, a little blood doesn't really send you into flapping fits of _ick_ and _gross_.' She waved her hands around. 'I mean, if you really want, I'll flap—but just for you.'

Mai slapped her hands onto the sides of her head, widened her eyes and slackened her mouth.

Gene snorted. 'Edvard Munch would be so inspired.'

'As would Hitchcock. So if you'll excuse me, I'll retire to the shower. Please don't come after me with a knife.'

The shower removed the bloody traces from the dream, but that's about all it cleansed away. She could still feel the desperation—her own and the boy's—pressing hard and hot against her skin. Mai buried her nose in her coffee mug and hoped the earthy scent would set her right. When it only gave her a steam facial, she clunked it down on her dining table.

'The brochures!' Gene waved his hands desperately at the pages upon which her mug rested. 'You'll put coffee rings on them! Didn't you learn anything from working with my brother?'

Mai tried for a laugh, but only managed a tired sigh. 'He never let me around the important paperwork.'

'I can see why. You're ruining everything.'

'Everything?' Mai lifted the mug to examine the mess. 'This is just a heap of junk. There is no order to it. In fact, it shouldn't even be down here. We've got a desk up in the loft.'

'Are you going to complain that I don't pick up my dirty laundry too, _Mom_?' he said snidely.

'Fine. You want to be like that?' Mai pushed back her chair with more enthusiasm than she actually felt. To Gene's shouts of protest, she gathered his heaps and piles of brochures, pamphlets, gallery guides, tourist booklets, and other clutter, and she hefted it up the stairs and into the loft. 'If you want an office just like your brother, use the _damned office space_.'

'For God sake, at least put it back in order!' Gene whined. 'It's not like _I_ can do it.'

She caved to that none-too-subtle reminder of why she'd originally allowed him to use the dining table, and she placed his jumble back into the correct piles—with only minor directions from the now grumpy ghost.

'The peevish way you've been acting recently, I get the feeling you no longer want me here,' he muttered.

'You know that isn't true.'

'If you aren't snapping at one thing it is another.'

'I'm tired. I'm sorry.'

'You don't sound sorry. And you never even took me back to see the charity auction exhibition at Watanabe Gallery. You even said we're going today, but you aren't even dressed.'

Mai scrubbed her hands over her face. He was correct. She'd begged out of it every single day that week. She was _just so tired._ Tired and frustrated.

The powerful effects of using the _I see dead people_ t-shirt in her protective charms had begun to fade. She suspected she knew why—but thinking about it just made her more depressed. It was nearly Christmas and Gin Knockers was busier than ever, and all she wanted was _one good night sleep_. Just one.

But that didn't give her an excuse to take it out on poor Gene. 'I really am sorry,' she whispered. 'We'll go tomorrow. I promise.'

Gene opened his mouth like he wanted to tell her not to worry about it, but then he pressed his lips together firmly and nodded.

Unfortunately Watanabe Gallery burned down that night.

They learned about the fire from the radio news that next morning. Apparently a fight had broken out at the charity auction. Several people were severely injured. Only a few of the auctioned pieces survived. The fire had spread and did considerable damage to the buildings on either side of the gallery.

Mai couldn't help but think of her rioting gallery dream and feel relieved that they had not visited the exhibition the day before. If it had occurred anything like her vision, the violence had been extreme and unnatural.

'Do you think Watanabe will let us look at the art pieces that survived the fire?' Gene asked.

Mai smacked down the pen she'd been using to fill in Gene's crossword puzzle. 'That is horrible. Why would you want to do that? People got hurt!'

'But the _art_,' Gene insisted.

'The surviving art will probably be auctioned somewhere else and for three times as much simply because it avoided the blaze.' Mai stretched and reached for her rucksack. It was almost time to head off to work. 'I'll keep an eye out in the local newspapers for an announcement… you weirdo.'

Gene scowled but nodded reluctantly. What else could he do? Leave Mai to skulk after Watanabe? If he wanted to be obsessed with that particular collection, the best Mai could offer was her research skills.


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

'Um… Bou-san, I just wanted to ring to wish you a happy Christmas, so… um…' Mai rested her forehead against the cold glass of the phone booth. The earpiece seemed to burn her with silence.

For the past month she'd been occasionally ringing Bou-san and Ayako, but their mobiles perpetually went to voicemail. And before this Christmas Eve, she'd never plucked up the courage to leave a message. What was she supposed to say? She didn't have a contact phone number, and she certainly didn't want them to come find her at Gin Knockers. At first not being able to contact them really frustrated her, but recently she'd begun accepting reality. She hadn't known them for very long, and they weren't her blood relations. Considering them as her family had been presumptuous. She had no right to place such demands on them.

This was the reason the powerful effects of using the _I see dead people_ t-shirt in her protective charms began to fade. She couldn't deny the fact anymore.

The kennel and Blur Face crossed into her marathon dreams more and more often. She counted herself lucky that Blur Face had yet to capture her again—though on the rare occasion that she did sleep without marathon dreams, she fell into the vile memory to Blur Face groping her, grinding against her back. She'd thought she'd gotten over it, but her subconscious disagreed. Sometimes even when one of the barmen accidently brushed against her, she'd flinch away with fear and revulsion.

Kennel Boy, though, had not shown his face. Gene suspected this was because he'd come to accept Mai's name for him. _A charm against Kennel Boy_ was what she wrote on each spell paper, and that was exactly what she got.

Mai tried to shake her exhausting thoughts, and she pressed the phone harder against her ear. 'So, Bou-san…? Happy Christmas? I hope you're well… Bye-bye.' Her heart lurched, and Mai slammed down the payphone handset. She leaned against phone booth wall with a dejected sigh.

Gene, who'd stuffed himself in the booth with her, whisper in her ear, 'They'll answer eventually.' After the ninth time that Mai'd only reached Bou-san's voicemail, Gene had curbed his snarky remarks. At first she'd appreciated the change in attitude, but now she almost wished he'd never stopped. Instead of voicing that little bit of resentment that she felt in the back of her heart, he unintentionally fed her dejection by saying, 'Don't lose hope.'

'It's fine,' she said with a shrug. 'I'm fine so long as I have you for a little while longer.'

'Mai, I'm not going anywhere.'

Her most horrific night terror—worse than any marathon dream—was the reoccurring one when she woke up to an empty flat. The air itself always seemed steeped in betrayal—whose though she remained unsure. It felt like a precognitive vision, but she never told Gene about it.

Then again she never told Gene about a lot of her dreams. The marathon ones frustrated him. By his account, they were all useless. A waste. And sometimes Mai got this weird, contrary impression that Gene would rather she went back to communing with Kennel Boy. Of course, that couldn't be right.

Chafing her hands together, she mentally prepared herself to step back into the frigid December air. She wished that she owned mittens and had to make do with tugging the sleeves of her knitted sweater down over her knuckles. Gin Knockers was only a block from the subway station, but still the cold was beginning to strike all the way to the bone.

Perhaps it was a form of avoidance or a final grain of hope that held Mai in the booth, staring into the grotty world that she'd had to make her own. Even in an area of the city renowned for its singles' scene, handholding Christmas Eve couples made chaos of the street. The prostitutes and drunken tourists seemed to exist inside the protective case of a snow globe—though in Mai's opinion, Tokyo's 'snow' seemed more like slushy rain. Such weather fit her mood perfectly. Shouldering her rucksack, she shoved open the phone booth door and took the first few hurried strides toward work.

The phone in the booth rang shrilly, and Mai nearly tripped over her own feet as she about-faced.

A hand snagged her elbow, keeping her from falling on her backside.

Mai kept her eyes fixed on the ringing phone. 'Thank—'

'Mai!' Gene shouted a warning as the arm that support her shifted and her rucksack wrenched away from her shoulder.

Fisting her hands around her rucksack straps, Mai tore her eyes from the phone and jerked away from her assailant. A harrowed, skeletal man yanked harder, but Mai refused to budge and she widened her stance to steady herself for a tug-o-war.

'Just give it to him,' Gene said, and in the back of Mai's mind, she knew that was exactly what one was supposed to do in a situation like this. Just let the man have the bag rather than take the chance that he'd attack her with a concealed weapon.

The phone in the booth quit ringing.

A cold breeze seemed to force its way through her heart. '_Rat-arsed bastard_!' Mai lashed out and smashed her foot against the mugger's shin.

Howling the mugger released his grip on her rucksack, and Mai overbalanced, landing in a sludgy puddle on the sidewalk. Mai glanced toward the crowded street, but no one seemed to notice or care about her predicament.

'Throw this little fishy back,' the block's resident liver-spotted pimp said from the shadows of a nearby alleyway. He flicked aside a lit cigarette. 'She's not for you.'

The mugger slowly released his shin. 'They're all for me.'

'Not this one. This one is special,' the pimp said to the mugger before turning to Mai, 'Are you going to run or let yourself get gobbled up like the rest of the sweetmeats around here?'

'Let's go, Mai,' Gene said, and Mai didn't hesitate to follow his direction. 'I am so sick of this! You want to know what I want for Christmas? I want some bloody afterlife-style PK powers!' he raged as they ran toward Gin Knockers. 'I want the ability to do something more than point at bloody books and talk about abilities that I no longer possess! I want to be able to beat up all the arseholes that you seem to attract!'

Mai wished that she could console Gene. She wished that she could tell him that he was doing a wonderful job as a guardian and that she required nothing else but his spectral company—but the truth was that she felt the same way. She'd even forgo the desire for superhuman powers, if only he could sometimes be corporeal enough to give her a hug. In fact her entire body felt bruised from the need for human contact.

By the time Mai skidded into the alley behind Gin Knockers_,_ she could barely breathe for the lump in her throat. She slapped herself on the cheeks several times to affix her game face before she stepped though the backdoor.

'You're all muddy!' The bag in Mignon's hand clattered to the floor.

Mai glanced down at herself. Her jeans and sweater were soaked through. Luckily she'd packed her outfit for the night in her rucksack rather than getting dressed at home.

'What happened?' Aoi said, coming out of the kitchen with a tray full of steaming mugs.

'Slipped,' Mai said, tossing her sodden sweater on the coat rack.

Both women eyed her doubtfully but refrained from questioning her further.

'Well you're both late,' Aoi said. 'Everyone else is waiting in the front of house.'

While a fair few staff members had managed to get Christmas Eve off, all the centre bar staff was roistered on, and they'd agreed to arrive early for a pre-shift gift-exchange—the gifts, though, had to be second-hand items and no money could be spent.

Mignon snatched up her fallen bag and hurried down the corridor, and Mai followed closely with her own rucksack. The front-of-house echoed with laughter, and the staff huddled around several tables where Aoi had plonked the hot drinks.

Senpai took a mug and held it high. 'Let's give thanks to Fujiwara for absconding to the Cook Islands for the holiday season!'

Taking up their mugs, they all shouted in agreement. Mai groaned contentedly as she took a gulp of chocolaty, caffeine-laden mocha. Life might throw her curve after curve, but mocha remained a pleasant constant.

The warm reception helped to loosen Mai's face and to make her smile more naturally. She had made everyone paper decorations, and the response to them seemed positive. Mignon decided to wear hers as earrings. When they'd all finished exchanging gifts, Mai had a pile of silly items in front of her, including a can of beans from Senpai and a scarf made of paperclips from Mignon. Mai had to swallow down tears when Aoi handed her a cropped leather jacket that was lined in sheepskin.

'I haven't worn that in years,' Aoi said dismissively and walked away before Mai could thank her.

Gene gave the gift two thumbs up. It seemed that, in her guardian's mind, Aoi-san could do no wrong. He smiled wistfully, and Mai fought another wave of sadness. While at Gin Knockers, he always faded into the background—sometimes literally. Sometimes he disappeared for a night while other times he prowled the premises for signs of the man that had punched her over a month ago—and Mai could do nothing to ease his boredom and mounting frustrations. It seemed even worse that he was now perched amongst the cocktail garnishes on a holiday that probably meant more to him than it could ever mean to her.

While her colleagues chatted away, Mai closed her eyes and pressed her warm mug to her cheek as she tried to recapture a positive state of mind. Thinking about the ringing payphone helped—so long as she didn't focus on the stupid mugger that had inferred. It had to have been Bou-san ringing her back. She always used the same payphone. Maybe this wasn't the first time he'd tried to return the call. The idea of an empty payphone ringing unanswered seemed both a pathetic and a hopeful image in her mind.

When she opened her eyes again, she stared across the empty dance floor. As usual her moment of buoyancy slipped away. The lack of music reminded Mai of a newer sequence of dreams. Dancers writhing in slow motion to un-played music, and the shadows of two men stalking her through the crowd. She never saw their faces because whenever they seemed to find her and turn in her direction, the vision would shift away into another scene. Truthfully none of the dreams had been set in Gin Knockers, but a music-less dance floor seemed the same no matter in what club it was situated.

'Shall we get changed?' Mignon asked, gulping down the dregs of her mocha. She winked at Senpai, and the two dashed off with mischievous smiles.

Along with the gift exchange, the staff had also agreed to dress up for the evening. Aoi lent Mai a black dress—well, honestly more like a skin-tight, crotch-length vest-top—beneath which she wore a silvery tulle slip. The lacy hem skimmed over the top of her thighs. Her torn knee-high socks provided the most warmth.

When she glanced in the staff toilet's mirror, her image reflected hollow, blank and unfamiliar—but this had become normality, and mirrors never lie. Mai wondered when she'd finally lost herself and become this other person. Slapping her cheeks again, she tried to focus on the task at hand. She wrapped her new paperclip scarf around her neck and hoped that she looked fashionable enough to match her colleagues. She spun around for Gene in the hopes of getting his opinion, but he just shrugged—he'd long ago stopped criticising the way she dressed, and he saved his lectures for topics like exorcisms, anti-possession methodology, art for the sake of art, and the need for better international sports coverage in Japanese newspapers.

When Mai returned to the front-of-house after changing, she found Senpai dressed as a shirtless Santa Claus and Suzu-chan, the busty barmaid, flouncing around claiming that she was The Virgin Mary—but Mai doubted any virgin would wear the naughty underwear that was clearly visible through Suzu-chan's translucent robe. Mai discreetly asked Aoi if Suzu-chan's outfit was too politically incorrect, but Aoi's response was merely, 'What Christian would be out in a club tonight—so does it really matter?'

Mai supposed not, though when Suzu-chan passed by the garnishes, Gene did wince and glance away—before taking a sneaky peek at her again.

'Perverted teenage boy,' she muttered.

'What the hell are you supposed to be?' Mignon said, and at first Mai thought that the barmaid was talking to Suzu-chan, but it was Mai that received a sharp prod on the shoulder.

Mignon looked like a very sexy, very peeved Mrs. Claus in a red and white negligee.

Mai'd been right to worry that she'd not dressed properly. It was so hard, though. Even if she'd felt comfortable, she couldn't get away with wearing anything more scandalous than what she was currently wearing—the burn scars on her back from Kennel Boy's psychic attack were relatively new and grotesque. Anyway she'd just made another payment to the yakuza that week, and she had no money to spare for silly costumes. 'I'm Clara from the _Nutcracker_ ballet,' Mai said defensively and fluffed the tulle skirt.

'No, you're not. You look the same as ever. Come here,' the naughty Mrs. Claus said in disgust and pulled her aside. Rather than protesting and ruining everyone else's good mood, Mai submitted to further tarting up. Mignon applied Mai's makeup heavily and sprayed her with glitter. 'Why haven't you let Aoi-san cut your hair again?' Mignon complained as she spiked Mai's downy tresses—now five centimetres long—into every direction. 'Sometimes I wonder if Aoi-san didn't just find you in a gutter somewhere. If you don't know how to take care of yourself, you should at the very least find someone that does!' Mignon said before releasing Mai back into the front of house.

Mai scowled. Why did everyone think she needed looking after?

When Gin Knockers' doors finally opened, the crowd was as rowdy as ever, and with the smaller staff numbers, Mai felt as though the world moved in fast forward. The singletons of Tokyo were only too happy to drown their sorrows and dance themselves into forgetfulness. Jay-kun played a fun combination of older tunes and remixed seasonal music, and after the initial burst of effort on the part of the staff, everyone relaxed and a demanding but fun rhythm set in behind the bar. Occasionally Senpai loosed a belly laugh and Mignon twirled across the floor. Even Mai managed shake her frustrating blues and plaster on a smile.

When it came time for the third 60-seconds-on-the-hour bar walk, Mai grabbed the whistle and the gin bottle without hesitation. Jay-kun announced the countdown as Mai stepped onto the bar. As always the crowd clamoured forward and eager customers waved their hands in an attempt to draw Mai's attention.

The spotlights swivelled to illuminate the bar, and Mai pointed at a jolly-looking cosplay elf. He put the back of his head on the bar, and Mai began to pour a steady stream of watered down gin into his open mouth. When he choked, Mai blew her whistle and moved on to the next participant. When a scrawny, antler-wearing fellow showed no sign of choking, the crowd began to cheer. Mai ran out of gin before the 60-second bell even sounded.

'A-mazing!' Jay-kun stage whispered into the mic, and then he laughed heartily. 'Everyone, let's wish Mai-chan a happy Christmas!' he said, and the crowd did as he directed. 'And Mai-chan, this is my gift for you.'

Through the speaker came the distinct typewriter clicks of the opening to Dolly Parton's _9 to 5_. For the first time in almost a week, a real smile lifted her mouth and lit her eyes. Mai strained on her tiptoes to see into the DJ pit, and when she made eye contact with Jay-kun, she giddily clapped her hands. When Dolly's voice—club remixed though it was—twanged through the speakers, Mai bounced a little as she finished her bar walk.

Singing at the top of their lungs, Senpai and Mignon beckoned next customers. Several drunken guys rushed forward, and one knocked his elbow against Mai's ankle as she moved to step off the bar and onto the chair. Mai wobbled, back arched and arms flailing, and the world tilted as she fell sideways toward a dish rack full of wineglasses. Clenching her eyes shut, she braced herself for the agonising impact.

A strong hand encircled her wrist and yanked her forward, and she tumbled blindly into capable, masculine arms. Feet dangling in mid-air and held securely by her waist, Mai's body dragged against the length of a reasonably tall man. By the time her toes settled onto the floor, her dress and tulle slip had ridden up around her waist—unfortunately her hands and her heart were trembling so much that she couldn't seem to rectify her mortifying state of attire.

Her saviour released her enough to tug down her hem for her, but he kept an arm around her back to hold her immobile. The sharp scent of black tea lingered in the man's black jacket, and Mai pressed her face again his hard chest.

'What the hell is going on here?' he said in a flat and furious tone.

Mai shivered. Of their own accord, her arms wrapped around his waist and tightened. _'Naru.'_


	17. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

'I have been looking everywhere for you.'

Despite his cold tone, heat radiated from Naru's body, and Mai pressed harder against him. He'd left his jacket open—a wise choice when visiting the stuffy Gin Knockers—and Mai burrowed her face into his black dress shirt. The buttons dug into her cheek, but the discomfort barely registered as the whole of her body seemed to have gone into overload. Her heart galloped in the base of her throat. Sizzling and freezing lines of energy alternately shot from her wrists to the tips of her fingers. Half her stomach seemed to be cowering behind her lungs, while the other half seemed to free-fall. If Naru hadn't been holding her upright, her buzzing knees would've betrayed her to the ground.

'… _idiot!_ Why the bloody blazes couldn't you just stay home where it's safe and _let me take care of things_? You aren't supposed to interfere. That's not the plan. I swear to God, Noll, you have a bleeding death wish!'

_Death wish_. Mai's arms dropped to her sides like wet rags. In a sharp movement—not unlike tearing a well-adhered bandage from tender flesh—Mai peeled herself off Naru's chest and stood unsupported. Her breath hitched at the loss of body heat, and her soul felt raw, as though bits of it had steadfastly clutched to Naru. Energy seemed to weep from her psychic wounds. How could she be so stupid? So happy? Naru had returned to Japan just as Kennel Boy had plotted.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to loose them, and instead stared fixedly at the smear of makeup that she'd left on Naru's shirt.

Naru's hand, large and pale, hovered inside her peripheral vision. 'Mai?'

'Shields, Mai!' Gene barked. 'Don't let him read you!'

A jagged coat of steel wool scoured her body, out of which shot short but razor-sharp needles. Naru's hand jerked back as though he'd been stung. Mai closed her eyes, breathed in deeply and visualised a river of scalding tea. The bergamot-flavoured, brackish taste filled her mouth until she had to exhale sharply and solidify her outermost shield of thick glass.

Naru stared, his expression demanding that she tell him how and why she had learned shielding capabilities. Furthermore why would she use them against him? After several long seconds, he recognised Mai's stubborn refusal to speak, and betrayal flared in his eyes.

Why couldn't the floor open up and swallow her? Mai wrapped her arms around her own waist and suppressed a shiver. Focusing her gaze on the mass of customers at the bar, she said, 'You obviously haven't been trying all that hard to find me. I've been here for the past eight months.'

'Are you such an idiot that you couldn't find the exit? Let me show you.' He fastened his hand around her bicep—and though her shield thinned, it did not become any less psychically impenetrable.

Gene came to stand beside her and gazed down at Naru's grip. 'Don't let him touch you for too long. He'll eventually work his way through your shields.' Gene read Mai's nervous glance and answered her foremost questions without them even being voiced. 'It isn't… sociable… to shield from good friends. In fact by effectively throwing your shield in his face, you've insulted him on every level possible. It's more than a slight. You've wounded him. _You didn't have a choice,_ but... he won't forgive you easily. He could just shatter your shield—but it would hurt you. Plus the energy expenditure would harm his body.'

Mai squirmed in Naru's grip. Knowing the narcissist, it was probably the latter rather than the former reason that stopped him from smashing her shield. _No_. Mai shook her head viciously. _No_, that wasn't fair to think. People who didn't bother to see _the real Naru_, they assumed the worst, but _Mai knew better_.

'We're leaving,' Naru said.

Mai strained back. 'No, Naru! I'm working.'

'We are leaving._ Now_.'

'Stop!' Aoi forced an arm between Mai and Naru, though he retained his grip on her arm. Mai sighed with relief as the older woman took stock of the situation with calculating eyes. Aoi and Naru were well matched—hard and cold, neither willing to budge, and both dressed completely in black. The air in the club felt electrified. 'Well, you took your damn sweet time getting here, didn't you, Knight-san? Go ahead and rescue her for the night, but I'll need her back in time for her shift tomorrow. Use the staff exit.' Aoi pointed toward the corridor that led to the back of house, and then she smacked Mai on the butt. 'Happy Christmas, Taniyama-chan.'

'No!' Gene shouted at Aoi, and the expression on his face said that he felt betrayed by the woman he'd come to think could do no wrong. 'Don't let him take her! You're understaffed, Mai needs the money, and my brother is an _idiot_…!' He continued to rage at Aoi, but Mai lost sight of her guardian as Naru dragged her across the club and down the corridor.

In the past, she'd never had difficulty keeping up with Naru's long strides, but he'd grown taller since leaving for England—or perhaps he'd never been quite as infuriated and eager to vacate a venue. Whatever his reasoning, Mai ended up running and skidding in order to keep pace with him, and it felt as though her feet only touched the ground every third or fourth stride.

Gene sprinted in order to catch up with them. 'Your rucksack!' he shouted as Naru hauled her past the staff coat rack. 'Your protection charms!'

Mai floundered like a hooked fish. 'Naru, let go a second,' she demanded, but the broody man continued forward without acknowledging her. With her free hand, Mai reaching for Naru's elbow and gave the nub a vicious twist. His grip on her upper arm loosed for a second, but he caught her by the wrist as she turned toward the coat rack.

Mai managed to snag her new leather jacket and her rucksack, but the strained effort nearly dislocated her shoulder and Naru carted her into the cold night without pausing to let her bundle up against the December air. The cold struck to the bone, and the shock had Mai sucking her breath through her chattering teeth. Her heels caught in the sludge, and she tripped and skidded.

Naru stopped on the street curb and lifted a hand of hail a taxi. The first five taxis ignored his gesture as they already had fares. Mai bit her tongue—pointing out such an obvious fact wouldn't win her any points. She wondered if his futile gestures were a result of rage-induced brain damage. She tugged to try and free her arm, but his grip tightened around her wrist. If it had happened last summer, she'd probably have been delighted at his touch—after all, it was almost like holding hands—but it was winter and the wind burned her exposed knees, thighs, shoulder and arm. She'd only managed to get her jacket on halfway. Shivering, Mai tried one more time to free herself before grunting in surrender.

Naru shifted, and whether intentional or not, he bodily blocked the wind.

Mai stared up at him, though he fixed his infuriated gaze down the street. He had grown taller and his shoulders had widened. His features still possessed the same striking combination of dark and light, his jaw had become more chiselled and his blue eyes seemed harder, more narrow and unforgiving despite the thick lashes surrounding them. If Gin Knockers had taught her anything, it was how to continue no matter how shameful the situation—and Mai thought she might just have enough courage and desperation to fly across the centimetres that separated them and plaster herself against his chest again. The man had rejected her love confession and he'd left her—and just standing next to him put him in danger—and yet none of it would matter if he'd hold onto her again.

Mai tentatively touched a finger to his jacket, but he stiffened and she dropped her arm. _Stupid Mai_. He must've been embarrassed to stand in public so close to someone like her. Tarted up, bruised, smeared, skeletal. Ugly. Dipping her head and tucking in her chin, Mai hunched her shoulders to hide her face.

When a taxi stopped, Naru practically threw her inside. When he loosed her wrist, her hand cracked against the car door. Clutching the seething injury to her chest, Mai scrambled over the icy vinyl upholstery. Naru slammed the door and barked out SPR's Shibuya address. Mai jammed her freed but now aching arm into her jacket and pivoted toward Naru to tell him that no matter how she looked, she was still a person and she didn't deserve to be tossed around like a rag doll—but sitting between them Gene was examining his brother with a great deal of concern.

Shouldn't Gene be concerned about her? After all he was _her_ guardian. Or was he? What was this plan he mentioned? No… no, of course he was her guardian—he just sucked at it. What if she caught pneumonia? What if she'd gotten frostbite and lost all her fingers and toes? What if she'd broken her ankle falling off the bar, or dislocated her shoulder when being carted around? What if her wrist were shattered? _Didn't he care?_ Furthermore, why was Gene sitting _between_ them? Why did he have to keep them apart? Her brain knew the answers to all these questions, but logic meant nothing to her heart.

Gene shook his head. 'He's millimetres from losing his control. Let him be for a moment.'

Mai sucked in a silent, bitter laugh. She drew her freezing knees to her chest and huddled as far as she could from both Davis twins. The taxi driver probably had heat in his front compartment, but he wasn't sharing with his passengers. Mai burrowed her fingers into the tears in her socks. Her paperclip scarf felt like icy chain link around her neck. She dipped her head down to rest it on her knees but refused to close her eyes—not even to blink, and they began to burn.

The full weight of her situation chased away any remaining slivers of joy that she felt about Naru's arrival. To keep him safe, she needed to put distance between them. She couldn't baldly tell him that she didn't want to see him—not after the way she'd clung to him in the club. And she couldn't cheerfully slip away unnoticed; she doubted that she'd ever be able to reclaim a pale shadow of the old incorruptibly optimistic Taniyama Mai. Probably the most ineffectual tactic would be to show him this new person she'd become. This pathetic and desperate thing that could barely summon a real smile—that stood by in her visions and let awful things happen. Let children's souls be ravaged and stood in silence as people committed suicide. That selfishly clutched to the spirit of his dead brother. She'd become someone terrible, unlovable, unworthy of all the kindness people gave to her. Unworthy of Naru—though maybe she'd never been. Maybe that had always been a prideful presumption. Showing him her pathetic state would make him ask questions. He'd look for clues. Maybe even treat the situation like a case—and if he did that, he'd never give up until he solved it. That was exactly what Kennel Boy wanted. That evil spirit was counting on Naru getting involved.

Not for the first time, Mai wondered how Kennel Boy knew Naru so well. How he knew that arranging for Naru to see a touched-up vision would call him back to Japan. He'd more than baited his trap with a tempting paranormal case. He'd baited it with something that went unrecognized by most people who met Naru. Most people would never guess the care and loyalty Naru felt for the people he deemed worthy enough to keep around.

And perhaps that was the key—that was how to push Naru away. All Mai needed to do was prove to him that she was no longer worthy of his company. Considering the way their meeting had progressed, she supposed it wouldn't be too hard to convince him.

'Mai, what are you thinking?' Gene asked.

Mai turned her face away so that she looked out the window instead of at the twins.

When they pulled up to the building that housed SPR, Naru paid the taxi driver without a word and Mai got out without prompting. Though Naru did not grab her arm again, he all but frogmarched her up the stairs and down the long corridor. The gold lettering that had once read _Shibuya Psychic Research_ on the office's door had been chipped off, but a vague shadow of the letters remained. Mai paused in front of the door, waiting for Naru to pull out his keys, but he merely reached around her and opened the door wide.

For some reason Mai'd expected the office to be empty, but it looked the same as ever. Books and files filled the shelving. Lin sat on one couch, typing away on his laptop, and Bou-san and Ayako sat squabbling on the other.

Lin quit typing and looked up. From beneath his forward tousled hair, his one visible eye widened. He wore a hands-free earpiece for his mobile but quickly apologised to the caller and hung up. Bou-san paused open-mouthed, and Ayako quit her nagging and twisted around to gape. Mai suppressed a shiver as Naru wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and pushed her further into the office. The clock on the wall ticked a good minute away as the group stared at her—even Gene, who had moved further into the common room, watched her speculatively. Mai wasn't sure if everyone was in shock or expectantly waiting for her to say something.

Mai felt somehow empty. All the emotions that she'd expected to overrun her were missing. The old Mai would've thrown herself into Bou-san's arms and cried. The new Mai was painfully aware that such actions could not and would not be taken. She had no right, and she had a duty to keep these good people safe.

'Where did you find her?' Lin asked.

Naru removed his coat with slow, laborious movements—as though he'd spent all his energy in retrieving Mai and now lacked the will to move naturally. 'A nightclub a block from the phone booth,' he said. Though he hung his jacket up on the tall coat rack, he continued to stand with his back to the room.

'So you were right,' Bou-san said quietly. He kept his gaze fastened on Mai's face as though everything below her neck offended him. 'About her being in a club.'

'So it seems.'

Ayako clucked her tongue. Lines of disgust marred the miko's brow. 'Why is she dressed that way?' she said in a tone that clearly inferred the unacceptability of Mai's leather jacket, vest dress and tulle slip.

Affixing a scowl to match the miko's, Mai let her rucksack drop to the floor and crossed her arms. What was she, some animal at a zoo? Some rare beast that they could discuss?

Mai jutted her jaw, daring the older woman to say anything else.

The cold welcome worked well with her plan to push Naru and everyone away—though it hurt her something fierce. The questions remained: how much did they already know? How much could she hide from them? Gin Knockers was out in the open, but did they know that she'd dropped out of school? What about the yakuza? The fire? Had Kennel Boy somehow made contact with one on them? And how did she avoid further questioning? The less they knew, the better off they'd be.

'We leave for a month and you drop out of high school? Become some delinquent? Is that how it is, jou-chan?' Bou-san asked, though his cadence suggested that he'd already figured out what had happened, and he didn't require any answers from her. Her nickname now sounded mocking rather than endearing.

Their reactions felt all wrong. The only thing Mai could imagine was that _something _had happened to _them_. That something else was afoot. Taking their side of the story into consideration wouldn't help her, though. Compassion would take the edge off her plan. She'd have to take advantage of the volatile atmosphere. Their attitudes irked her, and she latched onto the annoyance. How could they think that this was some kind of teenage rebellion? Who would choose to live like this? To dress like this?

'Are you crazy?' Ayako demanded when Mai did not answer Bou-san.

Mai bit her tongue to sharpen it, and then she dropped a phrase that she'd never used in her life. '_Fuck you_.'

Lin's knee jerked, and his foot rammed against the coffee table.

'Mai!' Ayako and Bou-san shouted in unison.

'What the hell are you doing, Mai?' Gene gripped his hair with frustration.

Mai angrily clashed gazes with her guardian. He hadn't offered any bright ideas on how to discourage these people from meddling, but all of a sudden he wanted to chastise her like everyone else? 'What?' Her tone dared them all to complain further.

'Enough,' Naru said in a quiet and hard voice.

If they wanted a delinquent, she'd act the part of a delinquent. She just had to push a little further—to project this awful façade for a little longer—and then they'd shove her away, and they'd be safe. Safe from all the dangers that associating with her would bring to them. 'You drag me out of work, and now I have to stand here and be criticised by these geezers? You know what? Screw you.' Mai jerked around and reached for the door.

'Noll,' Lin and Gene warned seconds before the lock on the door seemed to magically click.

Mai mentally cursed Naru for being so stubborn. Why would he risk injury by using his PK power? What did it take to make him throw her away? '_You idiot_, you're acting like you've done me some kind of favour! But do you want to know the truth? The truth is that _I don't need you._' Her stomach seized with the lie, and she had to take several deep breaths to stop herself from being physically ill. _'_The truth is that I like my life without narcissistic bastards!'

Naru wheeled around and crossed the floor before Mai had a chance to do anything more than reinforce her shield. His eyes darkened as he obviously noticed her efforts. 'Fine.' He seized her bicep again and hauled her toward his office door.

Lin and Ayako watched without comment. Bou-san actually nodded in approval. Gene seemed to have gone into shock.

Mai floundered every which way, but once again Naru's grip was unbreakable. She screeched with frustration. 'Quit carting me around like a naughty child!'

He shoved her into his office. 'We will talk again when you have come to your senses.' He slammed the door. Metal creaked ominously.

Mai gripped the doorknob, but it did not budge. It took her a moment before she realised that Naru had again used his PK powers—this time to jam the lock.


	18. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Mai shrieked with fury and rammed her foot against the office door. Pain shot up through her leg, and she screamed again. 'Oi! Oi! Chotto Mattee! Baka, baka, baka!' Mai pounded against the locked door with her fists, punctuating each syllable. 'Kon'aro! Kon'aro! Che.'

Not a sound came from the next room, but somehow she _knew_ that Naru was standing just on the other side of the door. _She knew it_. Slipping to her knees, she pressed her forehead against the cool wood. She wanted to continue crying, pleading—no,_ begging_ him to open the door, but she wouldn't. _She couldn't._ Instead she whispered: '_Eejit… muppet… gormless prat… Narcissistic, rat-arsed bastard.'_

'Stop speaking in English,' Gene said, walking through a bookshelf-lined wall. 'If he hears you, he'll get suspicious.'

'Oh who cares,' Mai gritted out. 'He thinks locking me in his office will change something? All it's giving me is an extra few minutes to practice my backhand—because you better believe I'm going to smack him into next Tuesday when he opens this door.'

'_Volume_,' Gene hissed.

Mai threw her hands in the air but pitched her voice lower and quieter. 'Of course I'm speaking to myself…. After all I'm a lunatic that needs locking up.' She slammed her elbow against the door and yelled: 'Ow!' before furiously hammering on the wood with open palms. With every pain she muttered a yelp, though after a while her raw hands became swollen and numb.

When exhaustion stole the starch from her body, she slumped and thumped against the door one final time. '_I_ hate_ you, Naru_,' she whispered.

The sound of retreating footsteps marred the stillness that followed her false confession.

'Come sit on the couch,' Gene said, but Mai merely dug her fingernails into the carpet's short pile and curled onto her side. 'Don't be like this.'

His superior tone irked her, and she couldn't trust his caring expression. Since Naru's appearance the spirit had ceased to be _Cricket-chi, Mai's Guardian_ and become _Eugene Davis, Naru's Guardian and Mai's Warden_. Better not lose sight of Mai or else she'll allow the big bad Kennel Boy to kill the sainted idiot scientist. Soon Gene wouldn't let her use the bathroom without accompaniment; after all, she was a moron and a danger magnet, and she'd probably drop her protection charm in the toilet and take a nap in the tub! She obviously didn't love Naru enough to sacrifice everything—her personality and her sanity—to keep him safe. Gene had every right to treat her like an animal—her worth didn't even register high enough to be called human. No, that wasn't fair. Her snarky thoughts were unwarranted. True, Gene wasn't her guardian but he remained her cohort in _guarding Naru_. And he'd never hidden this stance from Mai—so she had no right to be hurt or to feel deceived. Unfortunately her logic and her emotions were locked in a battle to the death. Was it too much to ask that her spectral friend support and understand her harsh tactics to push the others away? Was it too much to ask that he help her shoulder some of the burden? She needed someone to forgive her for becoming such a terrible person—but then again, if she couldn't forgive herself, why should anyone else? She wouldn't forgive herself. She didn't want Gene's forgiveness either.

It was beyond bizarre. She'd spent the last two months gradually becoming hollow inside, but now that space seemed crammed to bursting with emotion. How did Naru do that to her?

In the past she'd have experienced one or two emotions at a time, sure they changed quickly, but they moved seamlessly from one to the next. But as she deflated further into the carpet, everything—love, guilt, fear, resentment, envy, pride, duty, loyalty and disloyalty, jealousy, outrage, compassion—welded together to form a machine that stole all her energy but produced _nothing._

Pointing a tremulous finger at the wall through which Gene had entered, Mai whispered, 'Go.' Gene jerked back as though she'd shot him. '_Go_.'

She needed to collect herself before she could present, for any sustainable amount of time, a suitable front. With Gene hovering, she couldn't bury her deformed emotions and illogical thoughts and she couldn't regain that calm hollowness, and if she tried to sit up, he'd see her for what she'd become—a bag of crumbling bones.

'Go play Sherlock Holmes or James Bond or something. Go collect clues. Go spy. Go figure out what's going on—I want to be alone for a little while.' Mai dropped her hand to her damp face.

Gene crouched beside her, his fingers nearly brushing her hair. 'Don't cry. This isn't your fault.'

His words of comfort were, as usual, a little too late and a little too sparse. 'This?' Mai pulled her knees closer to her chest. 'The overall situation, perhaps… but what I've done. What I've said… that was me. That was my choice.' The coarse carpet grated her skin as she coiled her limbs tighter. 'Please, Cricket-chi… please go be helpful. Help me. Go where I can't…. Make sure… make sure that he's alright.'

'I'm more worried about you,' Gene said.

'Don't lie.'

'I'm not.'

Tilting her head up, she gazed at the spirit with watery vision. 'I'm locked in an office. Nothing bad will happen to me here… but Naru used his PK power twice today, maybe more. He's the one you should be concerned about. Not me.' Hot tears seeped from the corners of her eyes. 'Not me.'

Gene swept his fingers over her face, thumbs tracing arcs along her cheeks, as though he could wipe her face clean. 'It's like you're dissolving. Like I'm letting you slip away. I never agreed to this part of the plan. I don't know what to do.'

Mai compressed her lips in an attempt to smile, but she knew she failed—how could she smile, even falsely, knowing that she was causing her cohort further pain? She needed to be alone. She needed to scrape together a brave front. 'Go be with your brother. When you come back, you'll see everything is fine. We'll ransack Naru's desk. We'll write rude notes in his textbooks. Maybe hack into his laptop and sign him up to receive spam, change his wallpaper to something pink and fluffy, upload a _Sailor Moon_ screensaver…. But first you have to go.'

Gene hesitated for a long moment. '… Okay, Mai. Okay. I won't be long, though.' He stood and stepped to the bookshelf-lined wall. 'Something pink and fluffy for his laptop's wallpaper?'

Mai closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The idea filled her with something—not happiness, not amusement, but perhaps with something close to a purpose for getting up off the carpet. 'I'm thinking kittens and balls of yarn.'

'What about bunnies?'

'Or bunny slippers.' Mai drew a shivering breath. 'We'll discuss it in a little while.'

Gene nodded and swallowed his guilty expression before disappearing through the wall.

Mai remained prone on the carpet for several long minutes. In the other room, low voices murmured, but she couldn't work out what they were saying. Probably something about her. About how disappointed they were in her. She didn't bother guessing their exact words—shutting down her self-awareness seemed the best option. The only option.

Her exposed skin itched with carpet grit. While it didn't _look_ dirty, it definitely felt as though it had not met with a Hoover in several weeks. Naru wouldn't be caught performing menial cleaning, and the thought of Lin in maid cosplay struck a spark of amused energy in the back of Mai's mind. Perhaps _amused_ wasn't the right label, considering she experienced no happiness, but whatever she felt, it grew stronger as she imagined the ease at which Lin could dust the tops of the bookshelves. He'd wear fishnet stockings and stiletto heels, and he'd stuff the bodice with balloons. Mai'd once seen a strange English movie titled _Rocky Horror Picture Show_—and though she'd never understood the plotline, she'd been struck with envy at the sight of Dr. Frank N. Furter's beautiful and womanly legs. Mai's legs weren't bad, but they'd never be quite so long as that male actor's. For some reason she suspected that Lin also possessed glorious legs.

The diviner would blush something terrible if he knew that the thought of his shapely legs was actually the image that helped Mai peel herself off the carpet. Her spine crackled with the effort. Kneeling she let her eyes wander over the office. The usual heaps of maps had been replaced with phone books, and instead of manila files there were boxes of note cards and textbooks marked with sticky tabs were stacked on the side tables. The wrongness of this—the un-SPR-ness—helped Mai put one foot flat on the ground and stand up.

Naru's desk looked the same, though. Neat and uncluttered. A teacup sat on the far corner as though waiting for her to replace it with a fresh brew. Crossing the room to further investigate took more effort that Mai'd anticipated, and she sank tremulously into Naru's leather chair.

Opening the third drawer on the right, Mai dipped her hand into the very front. She hesitated for a moment, drawing her tattered shield around her. She slid her fingers across a pack of playing cards. Though the packaging was tattered, the cards that slipped free retained a crispness. The sound of the riffling deck crackled in the stillness off the office and was quickly followed by a whispering cascade. The calm, the nearly endless control that Naru possessed seemed to pour from the deck and steadied Mai's soul. She repeated the shuffling process again and again and again until she lost herself in the hypnotic movements.

'He never even let _me_ touch those.' Gene's voice shattered Mai's moment of tranquillity, but her composure remained. 'I still remember the day our father gave the deck to him. There was broken glass everywhere….' Gene passed both hands through his hair.

Gently tamping the deck against the desk, Mai returned the cards to their package and placed it back in the drawer.

'What's going on out there?' she asked quietly.

Gene glanced away and refused to make eye contact. 'I thought we were going to hack into Noll's computer?'

Mai steepled her fingers and leaned forward. 'What is going on in the other room?'

'Did we decide on kittens or bunnies—'

'Enough.' Mai pressed her palms against the desk. 'Do your job. Tell me what's being said. If you don't, there will be consequences. I will start pushing in the chairs around the dining table; I will stop leaving newspapers open to the crossword and sports pages; I will not read another book aloud; I will not play games with you; I will stop talking to you_; _and I will do everything in my power to make your incorporeal existence absolute Hell.'

Gene opened his mouth, and for a long moment Mai thought he was going to call her bluff, but finally he said, 'Noll and Lin have been in Japan for three weeks. Noll isn't reopening SPR, though. He's just using these offices as a base for thesis research. I'm not clear on the topic. When Bou-san and—'

'Don't call him _Bou-san_. To you he is Takigawa-san.'

Gene only flinched and continued with his explanation. '_Takigawa-san_ and _Matsuzaki-san_ have been looking for you for some time. They spoke to some of your old school friends. That's how they found that you've dropped out.'

'I didn't drop out. I merely didn't continue into the exam year.'

Gene's expression clearly read _isn't that the same?_ 'Apparently _Takigawa-san _forgot to unlock his phone for international calls while he was in Australia. To complicate matters, the phone booth that you have been ringing from has a withheld number. They might have gotten a trace on the line if you'd bothered to leave a message. That is, in fact, how Noll found you tonight. _Takigawa-san _and _Matsuzaki-san_ left the phone with Noll while they picked up dinner. Noll missed your call but was able to trace the message to the phone booth outside Gin Knockers. Noll went after you without telling Lin…. Lin is very pissed off.'

From the corner of the desk, Mai drew the teacup toward her—it was full with cold, murky, undrinkable tea. 'And how is Naru?'

'Sleeping.'

Mai's fingers jerked and the cup rattled in the saucer.

'But he's fine. Tired.'

'Did they say anything else? Do they know anything else that they shouldn't?'

Gene shrugged and shook his head.

'And my rucksack?' She silently berated herself for dropping it on the common room floor. What had she been thinking? She needed her protection charms and her spell paper.

'Your rucksack is hanging on the coat rack. _Matsuzaki-san_ wanted to open it, but Noll told them to wait until he's feeling… more put together. He's going to try and read it, but for now using his PK has exhausted him.'

'And when are they planning to let me out?'

'They didn't say. No time soon.'

Mai slumped back in the chair. 'Oh that's kind of them—_hey, I have a bright idea, why don't we starve the skeletal chick_.'

'Are you hungry?'

Mai paused to consider the answer. Her stomach felt hollow—but it would feel that way even if stuffed with the finest bento—and her head felt stuffy, but again she could drink a thousand litres of water and still feel as though her cerebral lobes were made of spun sugar. 'I'll be fine for the time being.'

Gene leaned across the desk. 'You're angry with me. I get that—'

'So what's Naru's password?' she asked, dragging the laptop across the desk. She flipped open the screen, and as suspected the computer prompted her to fill in a blank. 'Is it "Iambrilliant"? Or "kissme,I'mbeautiful"? "Can'tgetenoughofme"?'

Gene sighed in frustration, but he knew enough to accept the change in conversation. 'Try this: "capital S p e e d b u m p". It was the name of our first dog. Noll never liked it much, but…'

'_Access denied._ That's strike one.'

Gene came around the desk to look over her shoulder. 'Try "capital L i n l u v s capital F i double zed capital B o m b s". That used to be my password.'

'_Access denied_. Strike two.' Mai's hands paused over the keys. 'What are Fizz Bombs?'

'At home Lin always has a bowl full of them on his desk,' he explained. 'They're sour boiled-sweeties.' Mai scrunched her nose in confusion. She had lost him with the colloquial term. He gave up trying to explain and stared back at the computer screen. 'Try this: seven a n one y a m a spacebar capital M a one.'

Mai timidly plucked at the keys. _7an1yama Ma1._

Her hand trembled as she stretched her pinkie finger toward the enter key.

'You're wrong,' Mai whispered.

'I'm not.' Gene set his spectral hand over Mai's and forced his pinkie finger into her own. Her hand buzzed with energy, and it felt as though she'd fallen asleep at on odd angle and given herself dead-hand. Together they struck their fingers hard against the key.

_Access denied_.

Gene grunted with frustration. 'Try it without numbers. Without caps. All caps.'

Mai ignored the suggestions and tapped on four simple keys.

_n a r u_

The plain blue wallpaper of Naru's desktop popped up. 'Kittens, is it?' she asked.

'No, bunnies.'

Opening the internet browser, Mai manoeuvred to a search engine's image category and began the hunt for the perfect revenge. 'Bunny slippers. Pink.'

After subscribing Naru to a couple risqué catalogues, an email mailing list for expecting mothers, and a roll playing community in which he would be known as _Taciturn Twat_, Mai and Gene proceeded to write several Lonely Heart and Dear Agony Aunt letters under the name _Kazuya Shibuya_. They laboured over the compositions—editing each letter three or four times—and by 5 a.m., Mai was so fed up with being locked in the office that she actually sent the letters off.

By 6 a.m. they found their pièce de résistance: a screensaver program into which they had to upload a dozen headshot photographs. Naru conveniently stored a digital camera in his bottom drawer, and Mai used this to take pictures of herself while pulling bizarre and unattractive expressions. Gene and Mai had a heated debate about which photo best captured her—the one where she'd stuck Naru's favourite pens up her nose or the one where she'd pulled down her vest dress so that it looked as though she were naked. When the photos were uploaded into the computer program, the screensaver ran a slideshow of crazy scenes that featured Mai's head and shoulders on the bodies of movie characters—both male and female—dinosaurs, and best of all, on the body of a rampaging Godzilla.

'Eight in the morning.' Mai yawned and then slapped herself on the cheeks to try and wake up. It didn't work particularly well, and she slouched down in Naru's chair. 'I'm beat.'

Gene, perched on Naru's desk as though it were his natural habitat, murmured: 'Mai, you can't go to sleep. You don't have a protection charm—all your spell paper is in your rucksack in the other room—and Kennel Boy will scent Noll on you, Mai. He'll jump at the chance to hitchhike into reality.'

'Sometimes you speak like you're in a bad live-action TV series. I mean, why are you stating the obvious? And why do you use my name all the time? _Mai_ this and _Mai_ that. Again, since I'm the only person who can hear you, it is pretty much stating the obvious when you address me by name. Silly ghost.' Mai rolled her neck and the vertebras popped and cracked. 'If you want to pretend like you're on TV, try to be more entertaining. Tell me a joke.'

Gene put on a good show of being shy.

Mustering up one more burst of energy, she bounced in the chair and like a three-year-old and demanded, 'A joke. A joke. I want to hear a joke. Make me laugh.'

'Okay….' Gene stood up and mimicked straightening his usual black attire. 'What's the difference between The Rolling Stones and a farmer in Aberdeenshire?'

Mai drew her knees to her chest and cocked her head. 'Where's Aberdeenshire?'

Gene loosed a frustrated sigh. 'In the north-east of Scotland—'

'And why are the stones rolling? And in what direction are they rolling? Is it north-east as well?'

Gene scrubbed a hand over his face—more to disguise a smile than to show his annoyance. 'Never mind.'

'No, finish it,' Mai yawned.

'You won't get it.'

She waved a hand vaguely in his direction, her eyelids slipping down. 'Just finish it.'

'_You won't_…. Fine.' He cleared his throat, and Mai lifted her gaze at the sound. 'The Rolling Stones say "Hey you, get off of my cloud!" and a farmer from Aberdeenshire says "Hey McLeod, get off of my ewe!"'

Stretching both legs in front of her, she propped them onto the desk. 'I don't get it. Tell me a better one.'

He frowned and crossed his arms. 'That _was_ a good joke.'

It was a terrible joke—but Mai recognised that arguing the point would be futile. Instead she turned her attention to angling her body in several directions, but every time her hip felt comfortable, the desk dug into her ankles. She arched her back and squirmed until she gave up on ever snuggling into Naru's chair. Frustrated with the world, Mai said: 'Your joke sucked. Try again.'

'I don't know anything else appropriate.'

Of course he didn't. Gene was a perverted teenage boy. 'So tell me a dirty joke.'

'I won't.'

Mai hooked her heels over the edge of the desk, but this merely strained her tailbone. 'Come on, I won't repeat it.'

'Somehow I doubt that.'

Mai pouted, and Gene chuckled. 'I know one other joke, but you have to sit up straight with your feet on the floor.' Mai did as directed, and Gene moved to stand behind her.

For a second her arm entire right arm tingled as though it had been doused in some kind of minty-fresh anaesthetic spray, and then dead-limb set in. Her fingers jumped of their own accord and then her hand flew up and smacked against the side of her face.

'Stop hitting yourself,' Gene said and her hand again rapped against her face—not hard enough to hurt but still with enough force to be truly annoying.

'Hey! What are you—'

_Smack_. 'Stop hitting yourself.'

'_Cricket-chi stop!'_

_Smack. _'Stop hitting yourself.'

She squirmed and writhed, but nothing dislodged Gene's semi-possession of her body. 'I hate you.'

_Smack._ 'Stop hitting yourself.'

'This isn't funny at all,' she said, stomping her feet on the ground.

'You'd best learn how to apply all that anti-possession theory that we've been studying.' _Smack._ 'Stop hitting yourself.'

'Your brother treated me like a child and locked me in his office—and we've just exacted some of the most embarrassing, frustrating and amusing revenge in the world on him… and now you're tormenting me like I'm your kid sister? Are you an idiot? I assume you'd still like to watch the televised 6 Nations American Football tournament?'

Gene relinquished her arm, and the entire limb tingled and the ache as her hand suddenly registered in her brain.

'How many times have I told you,' he growled, settling back on the desk, '6 Nations is a _rugby_ tournament? Rugby!'

'Rugby, American football—whatever.'

'_You could never be my girlfriend_.' Mai couldn't decide if the shock in Gene's voice came from the realisation that she had no interest in sports or the realisation that Gene and Mai were not a suitable romantic match.

Uneasy with the idea that Gene _had_ been considering her as a suitable match for him, she said in a tone that she hoped sounded cavalier: 'Good thing since I'm in love with your brother—a man with no interest in sports.' A cold silence swept between them.

The tension leeched her energy, and Mai almost felt relieved to worry about her fatigue rather than Gene's potentially injured feelings. Avoiding eye contact, she turned to rummage through the desk again. 'There's got to be some spell paper somewhere around here.'

'What would Noll need with spell paper? Spells are Lin's domain.'

Mai's eyes burned as she tried to scrub the sleep from them. 'So what am I going to do? I won't be able to keep awake for much longer.'

Gene stared at the closed door. 'They'll let you out soon.'

'Are you sure? Can you go check?'

Gene hesitated as Mai stifled another yawn. 'I'll go check, but you have to promise not to go to sleep.'

'I'm not an idiot.'

'You say that a lot.'

'No one believes me.' Mai dug her short fingernails into the fleshy part of her palm. She winced with the pain, but it didn't wake her up as she'd hoped. She clenched her fists tighter and gouged crescents formed, and Mai showed them to Gene. 'I won't go to sleep.'

Gene promised to be right back, but after fifteen minutes, Mai knew her niggling doubts were absolutely true. Gene'd become caught up in protecting Naru again, and Mai was on her own. All the confused emotions that she'd locked away started to worm themselves back into her consciousness, but even as exhaustion darkened her peripheral vision, she strove for control and calm and logic. Mai sluggishly thought back to anything she'd ever read about making protective charms without using spell paper. Her thoughts ran in circles and kept returning to the feeling of calmness that had accompanied holding Naru's deck of cards.

Not sure what to do, but certain that she didn't want to be found sleeping in front of the laptop computer that she'd hacked into, Mai retrieved the deck of cards and clutched it close as she crossed to the couch. Shivering, she struggled into her leather jacket and zipped it to her chin. The couch was a sleek, modern design devoid of even the simplest of comforts—like throw pillows or arm cushions—and so Mai uncomfortably placed her head against the hard armrest. No one in her right mind would be able to sleep on such a monstrosity of a couch.

But fatigue clawed at her eyes, and though she fought valiantly until the last moment, Mai inevitably broke away from reality with Naru's deck of cards still pressed against her heart.


	19. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

_A gentleman moved to the side, allowing Mai to step onto the escalator first. The shopping mall's atrium had to be 11, maybe 12 storeys tall. Mai tipped her head back to squint into the sunlight that poured in from the skylights. No one stood before her, and she had a clear view all the way to the top of the moving staircase. It extended further up than just one floor, but she supposed that was normal for a place so big._

_Shivering, she clutched her arms tighter to her chest. The deck of cards warmed in her grasp._

_Cards._

_Mai held out her hands and stared at the pack of cards. Naru's cards. She'd traced them into the dreamscape._

'_Hello, Mai.'_

_Mai's head snapped upward, and she nearly fell back with the shock. Dressed in his usual hoodie and tooth-necklace, Kennel Boy stood at the top of the escalator. She took a moment to look at him—to really concentrate. His hair was lanky, knotted, light brown. His chin was pointed but his cheeks retained a youthful plumpness. His eyes were deep set and rimmed in red. He wasn't Japanese. He seemed to be of mixed heritage. European and Polynesian…?_

'_I wouldn't bother straining that tiny brain of yours. You aren't very good at remembering things, are you?' he said. 'It will all be over soon enough anyway.'_

_Like hell it would. Mai twisted around to run down the stairs, but Blur Face stood close behind her. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to stand squarely facing Kennel Boy again. His hands slid over her stomach like lazy snakes._

_Mai squeezed the cards to her trembling chest._

'_You've brought me a gift,' Kennel Boy said. 'Did Oliver give them to you for protection when you told him about me? You did tell him all about me, didn't you?'_

_Did he think her totally stupid? Ignoring the disgusting sensation of Blur Face's clothing rubbing against her own, Mai widened her stance on the escalator. She would let neither Kennel Boy nor Blur Face bring her down without a fight. She refused to be a victim. 'I won't let Naru get involved with you.'_

'_That's not how the game is played, Mai.'_

'_I'm not playing. I'll never let you hurt Naru.'_

_Kennel Boy cackled and the sound echoed through the atrium. 'Hurt him? I want so much more than mere pain from that bastard.'_

'_Why are you doing this?' Mai struggled against the arms that restrained her._

'_Trying to gather clues? Puzzle me out? But you're not _playing_—that's what you said. And if you're not playing, you have no need for those cards.' Kennel Boy stretched out his hand. 'Give them to me, Mai.'_

_Curling her fingers more firmly around the deck, she breathed deeply again and again—hoping to somehow draw on Naru's calm, Naru's intelligence, Naru's power. With every shuddering breath she felt more lightheaded, more rickety, more impotent._

_A gap appeared between the escalator and the floor on which Kennel Boy stood. _

_Mai clasped the cards harder still, pressing them against her chest until it ached._

_The gap continued to widen and show a large expanse of blue sky below._

_It wasn't much of a choice. She was nearly at the gap—not half a metre from Kennel Boy. He grabbed at her, ready to yank her across the gap and into whatever horrific scenario he had planned. Blur Face shoved her from behind. _

_Mai loosed her knees and bodily hurled herself into the open sky. Better she splatter herself on some unseen pavement than end up in Kennel Boy's clutches._

_Shock radiated through her shoulder, and she crumbled forward down an entire flight of iron fire escape stairs. She landed with a moan, crushed against the banister. She had expected a long fall through the sky, and so it took her a few precious moments to orientate herself._

_The temperature was Baltic despite the full sunlight and cloudless sky. Each frigid breath she drew burned her lungs. Struggling to her feet, she looked out over miles of stone and mortar city toward a bay and the green hills beyond it. This was the city outside Canongate Cemetery. The city with the black smoke tenement building._

_The hairs on Mai's arms prickled. Gripping the deck of cards more tightly, she cautiously turned around._

_In the window not a metre away stood The Academic in his thin t-shirt. He was methodically clipping sheets of paper on a clothesline._

_Mai's stomach dropped. He had yet to notice her—so perhaps she could sneak away, down the fire escape and retreat deep into the city._

'_You can't escape, Mai.' Kennel Boy's voice echoed up at her. He stood on the ground, maybe six storeys below._

_The window rumbled as the bottom pane shoved upward. Mai scrambled for the window. The Academic stepped aside to allow her access. She ducked beneath the clothesline and tumbled into the room—the studio room devoid of doors. Only the desk and chair filled the space._

_Twisting around, crouching and feeling terribly feral, Mai eyed The Academic and thought perhaps she'd been better off dealing with Kennel Boy._

_The Academic's well-groomed brows shot upward for a moment before he smirked. He pointed at Mai and nodded his head as though he'd suddenly remembered who she was. 'Forgive me, but you seem to be running from something. Or someone. A boy, perhaps? Young. Not all together… sociable.'_

_Unsociable. She could think of quite a few other descriptors that seemed more apt, but nonetheless she nodded._

_The Academic sighed, and his whole body—from his head to his fingers—seemed to shrug. The gesture should have expressed congenial bafflement, but his eyes were too watchful, too shrewd, too calculated to be genuine. 'He'll be tough to get rid of. Single-minded, that one. Bloodthirsty. A parasite. Like a tick. You ever had a tick?'_

_Mai shook her head._

'_You've got to burn them until they crawl back out from under your skin. Nasty business. Fire and blood. Not easy dealing with it on your own, either.'_

_Mai almost told him that she wasn't dealing on her own, she had Gene—but that little voice in her heart told her to hold her tongue._

'_As I mentioned the last time you wandered in here, I can help you. You'll forgive me if I sound condescending, but I've been around awhile. I've seen first-hand the damage these nasties can do. What you need is protection.' He gestured to the sheets of paper hanging on the clothesline. They were thick. Multi-coloured. Deeply textured. Much more beautiful than any paper Mai'd ever made. And much more potent—Mai never doubted that for a minute. 'One of the finest arts is found in the making of paper. Strong paper. Powerful paper. If you are interested, I could be persuaded to teach you how to make it yourself. I think you'd be very gifted.'_

_Again Mai shook her head and cast another nervous glance around the room. The floor-to-ceiling shelves were crammed with books and jars, rolls of parchment and boxes of paintbrushes._

'_Perhaps you'd like to try a piece of my paper. It will easily convince you that the power _always _lies in the paper. It doesn't matter what ink you use, if your foundation is not properly tempered. You can select any one that pleases you.' Again he gestured to the clothesline._

_The thick and deeply textured paper almost tempted her. She could feel the energy contained within them. Charms written on such paper would not weaken, would not dry up in a matter of hours._

'_All I need is the smallest trinket in return,' The Academic said. 'That silly deck of cards, perhaps.'_

_Tucking the cards beneath her chin, Mai shook her head._

'_No? They must be very special indeed, if you're willing to die for them. That boy will kill you.'_

_Mai swallowed the growing lump in her throat. 'I don't want to die—but I won't let Naru get hurt.'_

_His eyes lit and he drew in a deep breath as though he was tasting the air. 'In that case, there is a door to your right. I suggest you run.'_

_Kennel Boy and Blur Face appeared in the window behind The Academic, and it was enough to send Mai flying through the newly appeared door._

_It spit her out into the street in front of Canongate Cemetery. A cluster of art school students stood before the church. Each student had an easel, but instead of landscapes each canvas filled with the kanji word for blood painted in dripping crimson and set inside a spiralling pattern._

'_No, no, no,' she whispered to herself. 'Stop letting Gene's silly obsession with modern art slip into your nightmares. Wake up. Wake up.' She kept chanting those two words as she rushed up the steep street._

_Despite the first hints of black smoke, a crowd had yet to gather around the tenement building. Knowing that this was not the place to be, Mai darted across the street._

_A SUV cut her off, knocking her to the ground. Expecting the scene to shift as it typically did whenever she fell, Mai lay prone and confused on the sidewalk. Two men jumped out of the vehicle, and Mai struggled to hold in a whimper._

'_Yes, this is the place I saw in my vision. This is where I saw your father,' the other man said. It was The Match Magician from her dream months before._

'_And you're sure Martin is inside?' Naru asked, slamming the passenger side door._

_The Match Magician scowled. 'Yes, _Dr. Davis_, your father is inside.'_

_Black smoke continued to billow from the tenement building._

_Naru flipped his black book open to a page marked by a yellow post-it note. 'If this is some sort of ploy to get Martin to approve your funding—'_

'_Do you really want to take that chance?' The Match Magician asked, his eyes glinting with fury. _

_Naru snapped his book shut and moved in long, elegant and purposeful strides toward the smoke-engulfed building. The building with the kennel room in the basement._

'_Don't!' Mai screamed, flinging herself after him. 'Don't go in there!'_

_Kennel Boy emerged from the smoke. 'You can't stop him, Mai. This is the past,' he said, moving to the side as Naru and the young man rushed into the building._

'_Naru!' Mai made a last futile grab to stop him. Tripping forward, she slammed into Kennel Boy and they both crashed hard into the ground. Kennel Boy grabbed for the deck of cards still clutched in Mai's hands. Despite his eight-year-old body, he was as strong as a full-grown man—a full-grown man in the heat of fury. Kicking, scratching, biting—none of it did any good, and it left Mai with only one choice._

_Springing forth, she head butted the little psychopath with all her might._

_The roof and then each wall of the tenement peeled away, and Mai squinted until her eyes adjusted to the dim light. A low ceiling of humidity crushed down upon her, making it difficult to muster the energy to sit up. Her hoodie was a swampy mess, too heavy for the oppressive heat. Tugging on the perspiration-soaked collar, she gazed around at the destroyed room. A dozen or more cots were overturned. Books, stuffed animals, blankets—every item seemed to have been lifted by a tornado and spewed into a total wreckage. The only upright items were the broken crates on which she sat. She held a pen in one hand and a pad of paper in the other. In her peripheral vision she could see two young boys sifting through the rubbish. Though she could not turn her neck to watch them, she somehow knew that one boy enthusiastically detailed how the room should be cleaned up while the other matter-of-factly went about translating the concept into reality. A spasmodic prophet and his loyal dog. Animosity churned hot and acidic in Mai's stomach, and instantly she knew that she was seeing this vision from someone else's point of view. _

'_I know you didn't mean to, but we need to clean this up,' the enthusiastic boy said._

_Her gaze narrowed on the room's only window, out which she could see an old oak tree. While Mai appreciated the beautiful and well-established plant, whomever she inhabited found the greenery pathetic, and he or she wanted to hack it apart. Without looking down, she dug the charcoal pencil into the pad and scored sharp lines into the paper. Her hand ached and trembled with the pressure until finally the pen fell from her numbed fingers. She assumed that she had rendered a grotesque sketch of the branches, but when she finally looked down, she found that she had scratched a mesh cage over the portrait of a young boy staring into a mirror._

'_Are you having fun?'_

_Fear choked her, and she fell forward out of whomever's body she'd inhabited—and she had a horrible guess who that was. Her face cracked against the floor, and she lay there stunted for a several seconds before turning and crawling backwards on her hands and knees. She blinked starbursts from her eyes before looking to where she'd been sitting moments before._

_Kennel Boy sat on the broken crates, sketchpad in hand. 'You seem to have lost something, Mai,' he said and then he lunged._

_Naru's deck of cards lay on the pavement between them. Pouncing on the deck, Mai tossed Kennel Boy a grin of triumph—a grin he never registered because all Kennel Boy's attention was focused on something small and blood-covered that he plucked from the ground._

_Drawing her tongue across her teeth, she found a hole where her top first molar should have been._

'_This may come in very handy later,' Kennel Boy cackled._

'_No!' Mai darted forward, but her knees seemed adhered to the ground and she belly-flopped onto the tiled floor and through it, tumbling every which way through open sky._

_With each long and horrific shriek she emitted, she mentally berated herself. She needed to shut up! She needed to be quiet! And still she screamed._

_Even as she crashed into the couch in Naru's SPR office, her lungs burned with the force with which she drew every shattered breath. Terror racked her body and she shuddered uncontrollably._

_A force slammed into the office door, tearing it partially off its hinges and flinging it wide._

'_No,' Mai whispered, trying in vain to get her feet beneath her._

_Naru's strides ate up the carpet as he approached her with hardened eyes._

'_Time to play,' Kennel Boy whispered, appearing behind the couch and reaching over to latch firmly onto Mai's wrist._

'_No!' Mai screamed as Naru reached for her._

_She did the only thing she could. She pitched the deck of cards into Naru's face._

…

'Don't touch me!' Mai screamed, ricocheting off the couch and scrambling along the carpet. Where was Kennel Boy? She twisted frantically. She couldn't see him, but his rage electrified the room. Her gut churned with fear.

'What is your problem, Mai?' Naru barked from where he had fallen. The deck had broken open and playing cards littered the ground.

Knotting pain clenched Mai's stomach. She could not see Kennel Boy, but she still felt him close. Like a tiny bit of him had hitchhiked onto the earthly plane in exchange for her tooth. Like he now had a single hook into her aura, and all he needed was enough energy and incentive to tear her open and step through. A simple brush of Naru's hand could easily provide both the energy and the incentive.

Mai held her shaking hands in front of her like a shield, and Naru reached forward as though to capture her wrist. 'Don't touch me,' she gasped, cringing away.

Naru ignored the warning and continued to lean toward her.

'Don't!'

Frozen not six centimetres from her, Naru's keen eyes focus on her trembling fingers. He observed each tremor like it could be a vital clue to the mystery that cowered before him.

'What have you done to yourself?' Ayako whispered harshly from the doorway. 'Mai? You're bleeding.'

Hot liquid dripped from one side of her mouth. Mai wiped the wet with the back of her hand, and it came away red.

Ayako knelt beside her, and Mai scrambled back further. 'Have you lost a tooth?' Ayako asked, casting her gaze across the playing card-littered floor.

Searching the office would be futile. Mai knew exactly where her tooth was.

On Kennel Boy's necklace.

'Naru, did you see this?' Bou-san—closely followed by Lin and Gene—stepped into the office. Glancing over an open folder, it took Bou-san a moment to realise that Naru was on the floor. When he caught sight of Mai, the folder fell from his hands. 'What the hell?' he shouted, crossing the room with two long strides and grabbing Mai's shoulder. 'Sometimes you are just too much trouble!'

Despite the padding of her leather jacket, it felt as though Bou-san had thrust a lance through her. She swallowed the scream, but somehow a mewling sound still escaped her throat. Mai tumbled backwards, dislodging his grasp. Her hand slipped, and she landed hard on an elbow.

Bou-san reached for her again, but when she snarled, he paused and Ayako drew him back. 'Is she possessed?'

'No. _She's not possessed_,' Mai sneered. Unsteadily she got one foot and then the other beneath her and stood. 'Don't touch me. Don't _help_ me.' She edged around Bou-san and Ayako, past Lin and paused for only a moment in the office door.

Mai stared into Gene's narrowed eyes. She knew that expression. She'd screwed up on an epic scale. She'd put everyone in danger—probably Gene as well.

What was left of her heart shattered to pieces. 'You all need to leave me alone,' she bit out before rushing into the lounge, grabbing her rucksack and running into the corridor and down the outer stairs.

They shouted after her, but she wouldn't look back. Just being around her put them in danger. Even Gene. How could she be so stupid? She'd promised Gene that she wouldn't fall asleep. She'd promised. She was the most awful person ever. She'd almost killed Naru.

Not even looking, Mai darted into the busy street.

Metal screeched.

Mai looked up in time to see a taxi fishtailing toward her. Her muscles froze and the world came into sharp focus. She'd always remember the faces of those people: the florist making a delivery; the businessmen; the mothers with their prams; the school children. She'd remember them all, every person that stood on Aoyama Street that day. The day that she died. She knew this was it. It was lucky, really. Poetic. Now Kennel Boy would have no way to cross into reality, and Naru would be safe.

An enormous, invisible force slammed into the rear of the taxi—like the fist of an angry giant—and the vehicle's trajectory shifted, missing Mai by mere millimetres.

Six metres away, Naru collapsed to the sidewalk.

From his position crouched beside his fallen brother, Gene stared at Mai with eyes welled with fury. Rage ticked in his jaw.

Mai sobbed, drawing the sound from so deep within her chest that her lungs seemed to pull upward and choke her. What had she done? _What had she done?_ Taking one tremulous step forward, Mai let her rucksack slip to the pavement.

She tentatively stretched her hand toward the twins. Her gaunt and quivering hand—fingernails chewed to the quick, blue veins raised and flinching beneath pale, translucent skin. _Her hand that could bring forth a murdering sociopath to kill Naru—if she hadn't done it already herself._

Head thrashing from side to side, Mai stumbled back.

Naru remained immobile, his chest still. Beautiful and pale as a marble sculpture, his head rested against the arm of his black shirt. He hadn't even bothered to put on his jacket. _Had she killed him? Would she kill him? Who the hell was she that he would die because of her?_

Mai clutched at her aching heart as though she could crush it with her traitorous hands. She couldn't stay. She couldn't do anything. Couldn't give anything. She couldn't. She couldn't.

Street after street, mile after mile flew by, but she couldn't stop running. She couldn't. She couldn't. She couldn't.


	20. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

'Mai-chan? Mai? Hey, Mai?'

'What's wrong with her? Is she still wearing the same clothes from Christmas Eve?'

'Mai, kiddo?'

'How long has she been on the ground there? She's half-covered in snow.'

'Quit it, Senpai. Don't—'

'Hey, _what are you doing_?' The man's voice seemed to come from a great distance, but his steel-toed boot knocked hard against Mai's thigh. The dull throbbing pulled her back from a place of cold numbness and white noise and shadows.

'Mignon?' Mai whispered. A rough, woollen glove brushed against her face, and she flinched away. 'It... I… he… my….'

'I don't know what you're saying, kiddo.'

'It… it… I should… he… I… he….' Although her throat felt swollen and raw, it was Mai's mind, and not her voice, that was the problem. Words, thoughts, images, feelings. Nothing connected. Nothing felt completed. She seemed to be made of static and chaos. 'Taxi… teeth… he… I… the cards… don't let him take the cards.'

'Come on, kiddo. We've got to get you off the street.'

Hands grabbed at her, lifted her, propped her up. A dusting of snow slid off of her body. She hadn't even noticed when it had fallen. Mignon and Senpai nudged her legs into action. She blindly allowed them to cart her through street after street. Without the energy to lift her feet, she shuffled through the sludge and wet clumps of gritty snow worked their way into her boots. It didn't matter.

Nothing really mattered. She'd killed Naru. Maybe. Probably.

Warm air rushed against her face, and she clenched her eyes against the stinging heat. As they moved inside the building, Mai breathed in the scent of industrial disinfectant and stale beer. Gin Knockers.

'Aoi-san!' Mai's eardrums flinched painfully at Senpai's sharp voice.

'About time.' Aoi's voice echoed in from the kitchen. 'Is that Kiki you've got? Did she say where she's been this last week?'

'No,' Senpai continued to speak at an unreasonably loud decibel—or at least it sounded unreasonably loud to Mai. Everything did. Their voices, their footsteps, the heating unit, the clunk and groan of the industrial dishwasher. 'It's not Kiki. It's Mai!'

Aoi stepped into the staff entry hall. 'Shit,' she bit out, folding up a tea towel and slapping it on the counter. 'I thought she'd flown the coup with that gorgeous fellow. You know, the one from Christmas Eve. What happened to her?'

'No idea,' Mignon said. She turned Mai toward her and stripped her of her damp leather jacket. 'We found her in an alley a few blocks from here.'

Clutching her arms tight to her chest, Mai shivered. The three Gin Knockers employees looked at her for a long time without comment. Finally Aoi took action. 'You, get back out there looking for Kiki. I want her found before Fujiwara gets back from his holiday.' Aoi led Mai to an overturned crate and forced her to sit. 'Mignon, grab my bag from the other room,' she barked before yanking Mai's sodden boots from her feet. Her toes ached from the movement, but not any worse than any other part of her body. Or her mind. Her mind ached, dull and throbbing and constant. 'Mai? Mai! Look at me. Who did this to you?'

Did this to her? Did what to her? Mai'd done it all herself. She'd killed Naru….

Aoi shook her by the shoulders, her long nails biting into Mai's bare skin. 'Was it the guy in black?'

'Naru… I'm mean Oli… Shibuya Kazuya.' What would they put on his gravestone? _Oliver Davis_. And he'd be shipped back to England, like Gene was, and she'd never….

Gene.

Aoi shook Mai again. 'Shibuya Kazuya. Was it him? The guy I let you go off with?'

Gene would never forgive her. 'It's my fault.'

'Don't be an idiot—'

She'd killed his brother. She'd kept silent about Gene's presence and about Kennel Boy but still that didn't stop the inevitable. Mai had killed Naru. 'He's dead. Maybe. Probably. It's my fault.'

Aoi captured Mai's face between her warm hands. 'If he did this to you, than he deserved it.'

Eyes wide and frantic, Mai managed to focus on Aoi's tense, creased face. 'Not Naru. He didn't… He… I brought him into it. If he wasn't with me. Near me. If I wasn't….' She'd been so very stupid—running out of the office and dashing into the street. 'He protected me, but…. It's my fault.' She should never have gone with him to SPR's office. She knew better. She should never have let him near her. 'I told him to leave me alone. I put him in danger. I… I….'

'Was it the yakuza?' Mignon asked, dropping Aoi's large duffle bag on the ground.

Mai shook her head, dislodging Aoi's hands. Her mouth worked but she was unable to find her voice.

Aoi loosed a sigh of frustration and settled back on her heels. Unzipping her duffle bag, she dug around for her mobile. 'We'll ring the police—'

'What good will that do?' Mignon muttered. 'If she's gotten some guy killed….'

Aoi sighed again. 'Mai, what happened?'

Mai scrubbed her hands against her face and shook her head.

'Fine,' Aoi said, standing and staring down at Mai with her no nonsense expression. 'When? Where did it happen?'

_When? Where? Recently. Shibuya._ A large and angry fish seemed to thrash inside the fishbowl that was her brain. 'Christmas Day? Aoyama Street,' she choked out.

'Shibuya Kazuya?' Aoi confirmed before drawing Mignon aside for a whispered conversation. Probably about turning her over to the police. Maybe that would be a good idea. She couldn't hurt people if she was in jail.

Flipping open her phone, Aoi paced into the kitchen.

Mignon squatted down in front of the open duffle bag. 'It'll be okay,' she said, rubbing Mai's fishnet-clad knee with one hand while rooting through the bag with the other.

Something about Mignon's steady voice and confident actions helped Mai find her voice again. 'I warned him,' she whispered. 'I told him to stay away.'

Mignon pulled out a wad of black cloth. 'And if he didn't listen then it is his own damned fault.'

'No… no.' Mai gripped the hand on her knee. She needed Mignon to understand. They couldn't keep dismissing what she was saying. 'It's _my fault_. He saved me. He….' He was always saving her. What was wrong with her? Why did she always need saving? Why couldn't she stop being an idiot?

Drawing Mai to her feet, Mignon tugged at Mai's clothes. 'If you warned him, then whatever he did was his choice.'

Mai felt like a toddler, her joints soft and limbs malleable as Mignon worked Mai's arms out of her crumpled dress and into a plain black shirt. In some far off part of her brain, Mai knew that she should be embarrassed. Grown women shouldn't let other people button their shirts—but Mignon's fingers moved almost clinically. Like maybe a nurse might do when dressing a patient at a lunatic asylum. 'He shouldn't have to die for me,' Mai whispered.

'Maybe he didn't. You said you don't know.'

She was such a coward. 'I ran.'

Mignon adjusted the collar of Mai's shirt. 'Of course you ran. You were scared.'

Was that a valid excuse? 'I'm always scared.'

'Well, kiddo. You don't need to be scared right now. We're going to take care of you,' she said matter-of-factly. 'Think you can slip into these trousers on your own?'

Glancing down, she stared blankly at the black trousers that Mignon held out. They belonged to Aoi, as did the shirt. They were the first decent quality pieces of clothing to touch her skin in almost a year. And they were black. Black for Naru. Black for Gene. Black for…. Mai cut off that train of thought with a jagged breath. Nodding slowly she struggled out of her limp tulle slip and fishnet tights. Mignon had to brace her by the shoulder to keep her from falling down. It took several tries to get both her legs into the trousers. They were too long. Too big.

Mignon pulled off the belt from her own jeans and threaded it through Mai's trouser loops. 'You are too thin,' she muttered.

The shirt, made of a thick, crisp material, sagged off Mai's shoulders as though she were no more substantial than a clothes hanger. The cuffs fell to her fingertips. It smelled of bergamot oil and citrus fruit—the distinctive aromas of Earl Grey tea. 'What if he's dead?'

'What if he's not?'

'He'll never forgive me.' Gene would never forgive her—she'd seen that in his eyes as he had stooped over Naru's fallen form. And Lin. Naru's other protector. What would Lin think? How could he—how could anyone ever forgive her? 'No one will.'

'That's not your decision to make,' Mignon said, curtly turning up Mai's shirt cuffs before kneeling to do the same to her trousers.

'I need to know if he's dead.'

'He's not. He's been admitted to Matsuzaki Community General Hospital, not far from Aoyama Street.' Aoi rattled off directions to Ayako's family's hospital. 'I couldn't get much information. Just a confirmation that he's been admitted. Still in critical condition. Only family can see him. I told them that you are this Kazuya character's sister—someone by the name of Koujo Lin confirmed it. Please tell me that isn't true.'

Lin? Why would Lin say something like that? Mai shook her head bewilderedly. 'No. I'm not Naru's sister.'

'Why do you call him Naru?' Mignon asked.

'Naru…' Tears choked her. 'Naru the narcissist.'

Aoi tucked her phone away. 'Whoever he is you've been cleared to visit him.'

Mai's knees weakened, and she crumbled back down onto the overturned crate. That was insane. She couldn't possibly visit him. She couldn't handle it if something else horrible happened because she wanted to see him—because she was selfish and stupid. Beyond stupid. Beyond the very beyond of stupid. 'I can't. I can't. It's my fault. I have to protect him.'

Aoi kicked her duffle bag to the side, and it crashed into the radiator and knocked Mai's boots from where they'd been drying. Towering over Mai, Aoi fixed her face in an expression of utter disgust. 'Protect him? How can you protect _anyone _if all you do is wallow in your guilt?'

'Aoi-san!' Mignon pulled their manager away and whispered in fierce tones.

Was Aoi right? Mai scrubbed her hands through her hair. Naru. Naru. Naru, what should she do? What would Naru do? All those times when things went wrong on cases and he blamed himself—was nearly consumed with guilt—all those times, what would he do? What would Naru do? He'd disappear. He'd disappear for a while and come back with all the answers. He always had all the answers once he calmed down. Calm.

She tried to breathe deep and even, but her body felt jacked up on adrenaline. Her world juddered like she'd just spent hours, days, months on an amusement park teacup ride.

Teacup.

Tea.

Tea.

Tea.

'Tea.'

'You want tea?' Mignon asked, but Mai ignored her as she stood up and unsteadily made her way to the staff cabinet in the Gin Knockers kitchen.

She filled three teacups with water from the wall-mounted ready-boiler and set them aside to cool slightly. Meanwhile she meticulously measured loose tealeaves into a teapot. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to the side of one cup—still too hot. She laced her fingers as she waited in silence. The water needed a little while longer to cool before she could add it to the leaves. If she added it too soon, the too hot water would scorch the leaves into bitterness and astringency. Again she pressed her fingers to a cup. 80°C. One by one she poured the water from the cups into the teapot.

Once the teapot lid was tightly secured, she stepped away from the counter and put her hands behind her back so that she wouldn't be tempted to fiddle. Disturbing the leaves while they unfurled could cause them to break and release too much oil into the water. The wall clock ticked away, and Mai matched her breathing to the tenth second.

In….

Out….

In….

Out….

She repeated this exercise one more time before placing individual strainers into each pre-warmed teacup. Her hands worked steadily—not a tremor or twitch—as she filled each teacup a quarter full before repeating the actions. She worked in smooth, methodical movements, ensuring that each cup received equal portions of the continuously steeping liquid.

It had been a long time since she'd made tea—a long, long time. When had Naru left? A long time. Maybe that was when her life went wrong. When she stopped making tea.

Satisfied that she'd done everything she could to make supermarket tea palatable, she offered the cups to the women, whispering: 'I'm sorry it isn't anything better.'

Aoi and Mignon muttered their appreciation as they accepted the cups, and Mai turned to neatly wipe away any condensation rings left on the counter.

Only after the kitchen was returned to order did Mai take up her own cup. She paused for a moment to appreciate the steaming aroma before she closed her eyes and sipped the beverage.

It wasn't too bad. It was certainly better than Naru could ever make for himself. In tea brewing, he was hopeless. She'd never forget that first Tuesday that she officially worked for SPR—she'd arrived to find Naru in the SPR kitchen _squeezing_ a convenience store_ teabag. Squeezing. A teabag. From a convenience store. Like a zit!_ She'd smacked his hand hard and thrown the box of teabags away. Now that she really thought about it that was probably why he was so rude when he wanted tea. After all she'd smacked the great Doctor Oliver Davis.

And that wasn't the worst she'd done to him….

'Mai? Where did you learn to make tea like this?' Aoi asked.

'Where?' Mai held the warm teacup to her cheek and closed her eyes. 'My mom,' she answered, one side of her mouth twisting upward with a spark of bitter-sweetness. Everyone always told her that she made great tea, but they never asked how she did it—and that was kind of a shame because given any opportunity, Mai loved to talk about her mom. Her very memory could make Mai feel a little safer, sort of like her lucky-charm house key, but less tangible. 'My mom worked at a small teashop—not a traditional one, though. Her teashop was… was like something you'd find in the English countryside. They made their own blends—sold them out of big glass jars. It was like a pink and blue chintz apothecary.' She laughed a little at the memory and began to speak faster and with more animation. 'My mom, she couldn't afford a babysitter, so I spent a lot of time in the teashop. Helping. Well, I was young so I don't know how helpful I actually was—but I never felt out of place. The obaa-san that owned the shop, she constantly talked and talked and talked but only ever about tea. Tea and cupcakes. Tea and scones. Tea and red velvet cake. Tea for happiness. Tea for grief. Tea for calm. Tea for hope. Tea for seduction—oh, she loved that tea for seduction. A top-secret blend, of course.'

Mignon set her empty cup on the counter. 'Why aren't you working there now?'

'When my mom got sick, Obaa-san couldn't run the teashop on her own. She tried to get new help, but… it wasn't the same. No one understood tea like my mom. So after about six months, Obaa-san closed the teashop. That same month, she and my mom both died. Obaa-san used to say that there is a tea to fix anything—except cancer and a broken heart.'

'You should open your own teashop,' Mignon said.

'Me and what tea-crazed financial backer?' Mai laughed again, but a tinge of jealousy crept in as she thought of all the fancy ghost hunting toys on which one such tea fanatic clearly spent fortunes.

'If I had the cash, I'd back you,' Mignon said, gathering the teacups and rinsing them in the sink.

'Me too,' Aoi added, her voice low and contemplative as she slowly walked away.

'No point in mulling over it since we're all dead broke and I've nearly killed the only tea-fanatic I know.' Mai tried for a flippant tone, but failed rather miserably. There was still a good chance that Mai's stupidity would get Naru killed… and yet still… still she felt consumed by the need to see for herself that Naru was alive. Aoi wouldn't lie to her. Naru was alive. But still… but still… Mai _needed_ to see him. The need engulfed her, buried her physical pains, drove all sense from her head. Even the danger of tracing Kennel Boy onto the earthly plane could not withstand against the voice in her heart. The voice that wailed like the wind on the tundra. The voice that said _she must see Naru_. She had to see his face. At least one last time.

'And that's why you need to go see this guy,' Aoi said, plucking Mai's jacket off the staff coat rack. 'You need to smooth things over so he doesn't send the police here looking for you.'

'He won't.'

Aoi tossed the jacket at Mai. 'You need to see him anyway.'


	21. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Naru had a private room in the hospital's Intensive Care Unit. This didn't surprise Mai one bit. What did surprise her was how easily she'd been granted access to it.

The whole trip to the hospital, Mai'd agonised over what she'd do if the hospital staff wanted proof of her relation to Naru. She didn't have ID. She didn't even have her rucksack—she'd dropped it some time after she'd run of out the SPR office. Probably in the middle of the street. She couldn't remember clearly.

To avoid the ID issue, Mai'd concluded that all she needed was confidence. If she walked through the hospital lobby with confidence, perhaps no one would notice that she wasn't supposed to be there.

Of course that plan failed epically. Upon entering the lobby, an eagle-eyed obaa-san beckoned her toward the reception desk and a severe-looking security guard scrutinised her from his station. With Mai's luck if she made a run for the ICU ward the guard would probably shoot her.

The elderly receptionist smiled from her seat behind the large counter. 'Tachibana-san will show you the way, Shibuya-san.'

Being called _Shibuya-san_ was phenomenally _weird_. Mai forced a smile and bowed unsteadily to the receptionist then to the orderly, Tachibana-san, who had been charged with the duty of escorting Mai to Naru's room on the ICU ward. It was like they'd been expecting her.

Tachibana-san led Mai through a maze of corridors. The _Matsuzaki_ name branded just about everything—every sign, cart, box, and lab coat. It seemed reasonable enough to expect Ayako to appear at any moment. One part of Mai craved the sight of the miko—her droll, flippant remarks and caring hands…. But the other part of Mai was gripped with fear at the mere prospect of encountering the woman—she must be so angry with Mai about everything. Naru, _Gin Knockers_, the flat…. It probably would be better if Mai could avoid seeing the miko.

Mai needed to make this fast. She needed to see Naru. Confirm that he was still…. Confirm that he was _okay_. And then Mai needed to get out of the hospital. She wasn't sure where she would go. Home, she supposed. Though without her keys from her rucksack, she'd have some trouble getting into her flat. And hadn't Aoi said Kiki was missing? Mai'd never actually met Kiki's brother before—she didn't even know how to contact him.

'Here we are,' Tachibana-san said, gesturing to a wall. It took Mai a couple of blinks to understand that she needed to look through the inset window.

Beyond the glass lay Naru. Unconscious. A myriad of carts and blinking machines clustered around him. An oxygen mask on his face. An IV in his arm.

Mai pressed her hand against her clenching heart. Her mom had looked much the same during her last few days on earth. The bed was the kind with wheels—the kind that could be rushed into surgery at any moment. A crash trolley waited in the corner.

'Do you want to go in?' Tachibana-san asked.

That was a really bad idea.

Mai nodded, and the orderly held the door open for her.

Tachibana-san drew the flimsy curtains across the window. 'If you need anything, just press that call button,' he directed before closing the door, trapping Mai in the room she knew better than to have entered.

Standing at the foot of Naru's bed, she didn't know what to do. Why had she come? She should have left after seeing him through the glass. He was alive. He was alive.

He was alone.

Where was Gene? Not that she wanted to see him—he was clearly furious with her, and she was already upset enough with herself. Was she bad because she didn't want to see her spirit guardian? Probably. But that didn't change the fact that his absence washed relief through her knotted muscles.

But where was Lin? She didn't really want to see him either, but still…. Mai glanced at the empty chair beside Naru's bed. Shouldn't Lin be there? But then again what could he do? What could anyone do?

Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked up at the ceiling.

Lin's shikigami snaked around the overhead lights.

'I guess you aren't alone,' she whispered, looking back to the statue-like man and trying to imagine the oxygen mask off his face, his eyes open and angry. 'I bet you're pretty pissed off.'

Moving cautiously and giving the bed a wide berth, she came to sit in the chair beside him. 'You should be pissed off. Do you know what they're making you wear? A floral hospital gown and puky-green blankets and white sheets….' Her voice broke.

'I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't.' She drew her knees up and hugged them. 'I know. I know you want me to tell you what's going on. But I can't. I wish I could. I'm so scared. So scared. So….' She buried her head in her knees for a moment and tried to loosen the knot in her throat.

'You know—' Her voice cracked again, and she glared over her knees at the IV in his hand. 'It's your own fault that you're here. It is! Don't you raise your voice at me, Oliver. Don't you dare. You have no idea—'

Mai licked her lips and sucked in a juddering breath. 'You're a real idiot. A real _prize_ idiot. Why would you use your PK like that? What are you always telling me? People who do things they know they should not _are idiots_. _Stupid._ _You_… you aren't supposed to be stupid like me. You're supposed to be _the genius_.'

Scrubbing at her runny nose, Mai could almost hear Naru's chilly response: _I am the genius, you idiot._

'Clearly _you are not._ And _I_ am not the _idiot_ here because I am not the one strapped to a hospitable bed.'

_You put me here_.

Mai gnashed her teeth hard. 'Blame a million and one things on me, Naru—but not that.' She didn't think her heart could take it. 'Please.'

_And what was I supposed to do, Mai? Let the taxi hit you? You ran into the street. You ran out of the office. You've withheld information._

'I withheld information?' Her whispered voice came out gritty and fractured. 'You and your damnable brother _lied to me_ for a year! A year, Naru! You looked me in the eyes every single day and _lied to me._ And still… _bloody hell_… and still I put myself through torture for you. To keep you safe. And what do you go and do? You go all _supernova_ and nearly kill yourself. What's the point? Why am I trying to save you if you're just going to throw everything away? Am I making any sense?'

_Not particularly. I need facts, Mai._

'Well that's balls for you, isn't it? Because I'm not giving you anything.'

Mai let her feet fall to the floor and gripped the chair until her knuckles turned white. This was positively mental. Absolutely insane. She was having an argument with a comatose man.

A comatose man that she'd been missing like crazy for eight months. The man whose memory she regularly consulted to help her survive another day. The man she understood so well that her heart always knew what he would say. And every imagined word—although typically deeply annoying—lent Mai's life strength, hope, meaning. 'You want facts? How about this?' Mai took a deep breath and released it slowly. 'You are my best friend.'

She waited for him scoff.

When all she heard was the rhythmic beeping of hospital machinery, she continued: 'And I love you. And you were wrong about Gene. I didn't even know him back then. It was you. It is you. When we're in the same room, the loneliness goes away. Hell, even just thinking of you helps. And I couldn't survive if something happened to you—especially something I could prevent. Even though you are a cocky, cheeky prick. I must be an idiot, right, to fall in love with someone as narcissistic as you?'

Tears welled in her eyes. 'And that's why I'm not going to let you get involved. I'm going to keep you safe. No matter what.' Mai chuckled, bitter and dejected. 'I get that you don't love me. I mean, of course you don't. I'm… and you're….' She shrugged and smiled—a real smile, soft and sad and genuine. 'But, Naru, I need you to respect the fact that I do love you—and what I'm doing—what I'm keeping from you—I'm doing it because I love you. I'm doing it because….' Staring at Naru through a film of tears, his body seemed to be enveloped in an almost gelatinous aura thick with pulsing, dark splotches. 'Because after all the help you've given other people, you deserve kindness in return.'

Mai tremulously held out her hand. She let it hover over him, careful not to touch him. Sizzling and freezing lines of energy shot down her arms. Spreading her fingers, she sifted them through his aura, stirring up the translucent haze and breaking apart the dark splotches. They reminded her of blobs of nasty oil slicking an ill-brewed cup of tea.

'Ick,' she whispered. 'You've got some sort of greasy aura-gunk build up. It's like… it's like… gross. This is what you get when you squeeze supermarket teabags—and then leave the tea to cool and coagulate. Nasty.' Sighing, she stretched forward and began siphoning off the oily splotches with her other hand. It wasn't a pleasant job. Even as her palms warmed with effort, an icy chill sunk into her fingertips. 'I bet you haven't had a good cup of tea since you left. Not even one made by Lin.

'Yeah, I know it was Lin that made that cup of tea you gave me during the Urado case. After all, you are hopeless at brewing. Still, it was a nice gesture.' She pulled the chair a little closer to the bed. Something about the sifting and siphoning action felt peaceful—like the gentle motion of her hands could keep bad thoughts at bay but still allow the good ones to come through. She'd never experienced anything quite like it.

'You want to know a secret? It isn't something I'd tell anyone else.' She paused a moment to massage some heat back into her fingertips before continuing to soothe his aura. 'That Earl Grey tea that I always make for you—it's my special blend. Something my mom taught me. Instead of using Ceylon leaves as my base, I use Sencha tea. And in the spring, sometimes I even use Shincha. That's the youngest, freshest, sweetest, grassiest flavour you can imagine. And into that I add the bergamot oil and freshly zested lemon peel. And orange blossoms. I roast them myself.' She shivered. Cold wormed its way up her fingers and deep into her wrists. 'I make other teas too. If you weren't so stubborn about only drinking the Earl Grey, I'd have you try my other specialty. It has the same base leaves, but then I add vanilla and roasted cherries and sunflower petals and rosebuds—don't scowl. It isn't _girly_. And even if it is a little _girly_, aren't you man enough to try something new—?'

Mai gasped as an icy blade seemed to lance through her biceps. She hugged her arms to her chest and rocked, trying to ease the cramping, shooting pain. She could breathe through it. She could.

She reached out to continue sifting Naru's aura—

A shikigami lashed out, striking Mai's outstretched hand. She bit down a scream as a bolt of electricity exploded up her arm. The eel-like spirit prowled in a predatory figure eight above Naru's body.

'Ow. Did you really need to—' Mai gazed down at her tremulous hands. Thin and pale and potentially deadly… and mere centimetres from Naru's body. What on earth had she been thinking, getting so very close to him? What if she'd accidentally touched him? Tracing Kennel Boy felt as simple as a mere stroke of her fingers against Naru's bare skin. 'Thank you,' she whispered to the spirit, clutching her throbbing arm. Mai eased out of her chair and edged toward the door. The shikigami continued to prowl above his body.

She reached behind her to open the door, but the handle jerked out of her grasp. She sprang forward and pivoted around, fists clenched and primed to strike.

Lin stood in the doorway, waistcoat unbuttoned and tie unknotted. 'I'll ring you back, Madoka,' he said before removing his hands-free mobile earpiece.

Mai swallowed hard. She knew she'd probably run into Lin—why hadn't she planned out what she was going to say? _Idiot_.

'Hello, Taniyama-san.'

'Lin…' she whispered, '-san.'

'Care to offer an explanation?'

She needed to stay calm—to preserve that resilient peace that she'd found not moments ago. Loosening her fists, she shook her head. No, she did not care to offer an explanation.

Lin's eyes shifted to look over her shoulder at Naru. 'He almost died.'

Mai's heart sputtered, and she couldn't find the strength to do anything but breathe her reply. 'He shouldn't have interfered….'

'Naru would find that an unreasonable request.'

'All the same….' Mai glanced over her shoulder. The medical monitors continued to beep in the same steady rhythm. Squinting, the only change that she could perceive lay in his aura—which looked a little less like ink-blotched gelatine and a little more like milk tea. 'He's okay. For now.'

'For now?' Lin brought his narrowed gaze back to her face. 'If Naru is in some kind of danger—'

'Leave it alone, Lin.' Mai clasped her arms around herself in a poor attempt to clamp down a shiver. 'This isn't some SPR case.'

Lin continued to stare down at her. His expression wasn't unkind, and for some reason that made it hard for Mai to meet his eyes. 'Naru would disagree,' he said.

'Naru always disagrees.' She tried for a sardonic smirk, but the best she could muster was a twitchy cheek. 'All the same. If you want to do what's best for him, you'll leave it alone. You'll leave me alone. And you'll encourage Naru to do the same.'

'Does this have anything to do with Gene?' Lin asked. Mai's breath caught as he scrutinized her for a long moment, and only when his gaze returned to Naru did she loose a quiet sigh.

Lin took a partial step toward the hospital bed, and Mai scooted into the doorway. Without looking back, she said: 'This has nothing to do with Gene.'

On wobbling knees she tottered down the hallway, her own heartbeat thundering in her brain. Why had she come here? What had she accomplished? What was she going to do?

Shards of cold lanced up her biceps again, this time piercing deeper and darting down into her chest. Mai struggled for breath as the pain shot down her legs, smashing into her toes and reverberating back upward in a searing burst of heated energy. If the freezing sensation had gripped her muscles and robbed her of breath, this new sensation stole strength from her body as it smothered her with heaving gasps.

Somewhere in the distance a child laughed. It started out as a syrupy giggle but quickly deepened and took on a coarse tone.

Her vision flickered. Mai jerked, knocking into a gurney as she staggered forward. Nurses, doctors, gurneys, walls—everything smudged together, faded into white and then snapped into harsh focus. Stumbling, she reached for the wall to steady herself—and found her fingers clenching fabric.

'Sit down before you fall down.' Capable hands turned her, prodded her, practically carried her into an examination room and pressed her to sit on a bed. 'You're paler than death.'

Well-manicured hands captured Mai's face and forced it upward.

'Ayako.'

A torchlight blinded her, and Mai batted the miko away.

'Sit still or I'll make you,' Ayako gritted out, tucking the torchlight away and fitting her stethoscope into her ears.

Mai held still. If all Ayako wanted to do was listen to her hammering heartbeat, that was fine. She only needed to sit a moment more. To focus. Dizzy spells had become a way of life for Mai—she'd be fine. She was probably just hungry. Hungry and tired. Though sleep was definitely not an option. Not until she got her rucksack back, anyway. Maybe Ayako knew—

The miko tugged the back of Mai's shirt out from her trousers, and Mai wrenched herself off the bed. Backing up, she knocked over an IV drip stand.

'_Sit still_!' Ayako reached for Mai again, and Mai braced a chair between them. There was no way in hell that Mai was going to show Ayako her burned and mutilated back. That would just lead to questions.

'Don't touch me,' Mai warned, blinking furiously as her vision blurred again. Why was it so damned hot in this hospital? Or was it cold? Damn it. Mai held her juddering palm up to keep Ayako at bay. 'Just stay away.'

'You need to sit down, Mai. You are on the verge of collapse.'

Mai's knees practically dissolved in her legs. Man, did she hate hospitals—come in feeling okay and twenty-five minutes later you're sick as a dog. Ayako was right—if Mai didn't sit down, she'd collapse. 'Fine,' she croaked, unsteadily coming around to sit in the chair. 'I'll sit, but I don't want you poking at me.'

'I don't poke. I examine.' Ayako reached for her again.

'_Don't!_' Mai shouted, snatching up a paper cup and tossing it at the miko. It was a half-hearted, feeble throw—a demonstration of defiance rather than a violent action.

'Young lady, that is _assault_,' Ayako huffed, smacking the cup away with an open palm. She stepped forward again. Mai sent a pair of medial gloves flying as well, this time a little harder, one glove whacking Ayako in the face.

'Is there a problem here?' Father Endo entered the room, his eyes as strange and flat as the first time Mai'd seen them. 'Matsuzaki-sensei? Can I help?'

'_Y-you_,' Mai sputtered.

'If you wouldn't mind, Father, restraining her temporarily,' Ayako answered, stripping the offending glove out of her hair.

Father Endo smiled at Mai—if one could call the slow lifting of his fishy mouth a smile—and he darted forward. Being as large as he was, he shouldn't have been quite so speedy—or perhaps exhaustion had stalled Mai's reaction time. Even as she struggled to stand on limp legs, Father Endo gripped her shoulders and forced her back into the chair. No matter how she squirmed and strained, she couldn't escape from his grasp.

'What's he doing here?' Mai gritted out as she struggled.

'Can't a concerned citizen lend assistance when he witnesses an unusual accident involving a taxi and a runaway woman—especially when he knows the identity of said woman?' He breathed into Mai's ear. 'Mai.'

'Just hold her still for another moment,' Ayako said, coming forward with her stethoscope.

This was outrageous. They couldn't do this to her. Ayako had no right for force an examination on her! This was harassment! A violation of her human rights!

Mai gritted her teeth. She couldn't break away from Father Endo, but she could definitely rock back and forth rather forcefully. All she had to do was wait for Ayako to come too close, and then _bam!_ she could head butt her. That damned priest would panic—

Head butt _Ayako_?

Tears spilled down Mai's cheeks as she shook her head manically. 'No, no, no, no, no!'

Surprised Ayako fell backward onto the ground, and Father Endo roughly adjusted his grip, forcing his arm hard against Mai's windpipe. 'She's obviously unstable. I've seen her lose control before. You should sedate her,' he grunted, as Mai scratched at his locked forearm.

Body bowing, feet scrambling uselessly, Mai fought hard even though her straining only increased the chokehold on her neck. They couldn't sedate her. Kennel Boy would win. She'd be dead. Naru would be dead. Mai strained forward.

And met the eyes of a blond teenage girl. The very same one that had pulled her into the kennel over a month ago. The ghost knelt before Mai, smirking and whispering, '_Repent. Repent. Repent.'_

Mai couldn't get a breath to scream, yet still she struggled and thrashed. Her dreamscapes had never once crossed into reality in such a manner. She panicked harder and splotches of grey obstructed her vision.

'What the hell is going on here? Let her go!'

The pressure on her windpipe abruptly released. Coughing and gagging, Mai crumbled to the floor—her corporeal body breaking the blond girl's form into a frigid mist.

Mai felt as though she'd just been crammed into the bottom of a rubbish barrel. Shuddering on the floor, conversation echoed overhead—tinny and distant.

'_Naru? You're awake!'_

'_Obviously. Care to explain, Matsuzaki-san?'_

'_Mai nearly collapsed—'_

'_Do Japanese medical professionals often administer strangulation in instances of near collapse?'_

'_She wouldn't consent to an exam—'_

'_After seeing your methods, I can't imagine why.'_

Silence.

Curled over herself Mai pressed her forehead against the tiled floor and choked on silent sobs. _Yokata. Ah Kami-sama. Yokata… he's awake. Naru's awake._

Raising her head slightly, she snuffled indelicately. Oh no, Naru's awake.

And the ghost? Mai's gaze skipped through the room. The ghost was gone. Perhaps she'd only been a hallucination—something Mai's oxygen-starved brain had conjured.

'Can you stand?' A large, pale hand crossed into Mai's vision.

Scuttling back, Mai knocked into the hospital bed.

Naru stood over her, frowning rather than scowling. He wore a white robe over his floral hospital gown. He hadn't bothered with slippers. 'This again?' he sighed. 'Fine. Stand up on your own.'

Easy enough for him to say. The best Mai could do was to sit up and lean back against the side of the bed. If she were honest with herself, she'd have to admit that her lack of energy had more to do with the events prior to the strangulation attempt.

But what had happened to Father Endo? Like the blond ghost, he too seemed to have mystically disappeared.

'Naru _suggested_ the _kind Father_ leave,' Ayako said, answering Mai's unspoken question.

'The question is, why was he here in the first place?' Naru bit out.

'He said he knew Mai, and he witnessed the accident,' Ayako whispered.

'Accident?' Naru mulled over the word. 'I suppose one could call it that. Stand up, Mai.'

'Could you give me a minute?' She tried for a flippant tone, but her words came out harsh and rough, and she flinched as they grated her bruising throat.

To Mai's relief, Ayako stepped forward to momentarily draw Naru's attention away. 'Look at me, Naru. How do you feel? Follow my torch with your eyes. This kind of recovery is… unprecedented. You were comatose not half an hour ago.'

'Apparently…' Naru sighed, acquiescing to Ayako's first exam but blocking her further attempts. 'Apparently _someone_ has picked up some energy transference skills. She managed to neutralize the… _ill effects_ of my PK. She performed a dialysis of sorts, and….' He spared Mai a perfunctory glance. 'To explain in terms that Mai will understand—'

'Hey!' Mai protested—grimacing as she swiped her hand against her dripping nose. _Wasn't she classy?_ Ugg.

Naru continued to speak, unfazed. Mai even detected a tiny smirk on his handsome—albeit too pale—face. _Jerk. _'Let's just say that she recharged my battery. I speculate that is what brought her close to collapse. Though it doesn't explain….' He reached toward Mai.

Cringing out of his reach, Mai off-balanced herself and toppled to one side. 'Don't touch me!'

'It doesn't explain her aversion to touch,' he said, turning to Ayako and speaking as though Mai were a dog or a _lab rat._

'You can't treat me like this! I'm not some kind of _animal_.'

'I'll stop treating you like an animal when you stop rolling around on the floor like one.'

Swinging her arms backward and smacking them onto the bed, she tried her best to lever herself upward. Her elbows shuddered and collapsed, and her legs folded beneath her like bloated udon noodles.

Why was she so _useless?_

Sighing Naru reached out to lift her up.

'Stop! Don't touch me. Are you thick?' Mai's voice cracked, and she screamed with frustration. _How the hell could she make herself any more clear?_ 'What have I been telling you? What? What? Do. Not. Touch me. Do not. You can't. Naru. You can't touch me!'

'That disagreeable priest touched you,' he reasoned.

'I did too,' Ayako interjected.

Mai fixed her eyes hard on Naru. This was a typical Naru tactic—get Mai riled and make her screw up, make her say what she wanted to keep secret. '_Just don't,_' she warned, doing her best to mediate her breathing and think clearly.

Naru's gaze narrowed further. From his robe pocket he took out a pen and his little black book, which he open to a page marked with a yellow Post It note.

'Don't you dare,' Mai seethed through clenched teeth. 'Don't you dare, Oliver Davis. I am not just another one of your cases.'

'You aren't _just_ anything, Mai.' He stared down at her with the most unusual expression: honest and yet exasperated. '—except perhaps _just _exceptionally aggravating.'

'Jerk!' What a jerk! How the hell did she love this utter and complete jerk?

'Some things never change.' He picked up the overturned chair and settled it directly in front of Mai. From the bed, he took a blanket. He cautiously lowered himself into the chair and placed the blanket over his legs. The movements were slow and measured—laborious and yet still steady. 'I am not going to touch you, but you need to answer some questions.' He leaned forward and smiled.

It was awful. A plastic smile. Flat-eyed. Tense in the mouth.

Mai shivered. _Scary_. 'Don't strain yourself,' she whispered, swallowing thickly. 'You should leave smiling to—' _Gene_.

That awful expression dropped away into his normal, overly keen glare. 'To?'

Mai's heartbeat rocked her body. 'Bou-san.'

Naru meticulously turned a page in his black book. 'It isn't unreasonable to deduce—considering your past record—that whatever is at the root of your… issue is probably psychic. I'd even go so far as to suspect this has something do with your dreams in which you commune with… a meddlesome spirit.' His lips thinned, and he gripped his pen hard. 'Therefore, as a client you are under contract to disclose all information to me.'

He thought this was about Gene. He did. She hadn't said anything about his brother, though. She hadn't hinted. Had she? What did she say to him while he was still in the coma? She couldn't remember—but she wouldn't have said anything about Gene. And anyway, he was in a coma. He couldn't have heard her. Could he? Had he?

Her stomach went into free-fall. 'I told you, I'm not one of your cases.'

'Tell me about the cards, Mai.'

She was going to puke. Seriously puke. Boak worked its way into the back of her throat—the bitter bile of her guilt and hunger—and she struggled to swallow it back down. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

From his robe pocket he extracted the bloodied pack of playing cards.

'The cards. _My_ cards.'

Mai's jaw warbled. She clenched her teeth hard to still the telling movement, but it only brought tears to her eyes. _The cards_. She'd been crazy. So crazy to think that those cards would help her. That they would keep Kennel Boy at bay.

What if Kennel Boy had gotten them in that dream? What horrid plot could he have enacted? And he'd almost gotten them. He'd had the chance to take them—and he'd turned that chance down to take Mai's tooth.

Her tooth. What the hell was he going to do with her tooth? Was it just a trophy? No. No, it couldn't be something simple like that. Kennel Boy would never have traded the cards for a token trophy. It had to mean something. Something bad.

And he'd grabbed her. Kennel Boy'd been primed to transcend dimensions the moment Naru burst into the office. _He knew Naru was there. He knew_. Was it because of the tooth? Did he now have a direct link to reality through her? Did she even need to be asleep for him to pull his way through her? Could he possess her? He'd wanted that tooth for something, and that voice inside her heart just kept chanting: _Don't let Naru touch you. Don't let him touch you. Don't. Don't. Don't._

'Why did you take my cards, Mai? No one touches my cards, not since—'

'Martin.' Squeezing her eyes shut, tears rolled down her cheeks. 'Not since Martin gave them to you.'

Naru didn't respond. Mai needed to shut up. She needed to get away.

Sniffling, she opened her eyes and focused on Naru's legs covered by the pilled, puky-green hospital blanket. It was the same colour blanket they'd drawn over her mother's face on the day she died. What was Mai doing there, sitting in the same room as Naru, putting him in danger? Someone should just pull a nasty green hospital blanket over her face. 'I shouldn't have come here.'

'Why did you?' His voice was so flat. Horribly flat.

'I had to know,' she whispered.

'Know what?'

'If I'd killed you.'

He set his book into his lap. 'A phone call could have ascertained that.'

Panic rose up in her chest, like a flock of frightened birds darting and swooping in the darkness. 'I had to see.'

He leaned further toward her with great effort. 'You really are an idiot if you think this is your fault.'

She closed her eyes hopelessly and the panic continued to consume her. 'It is.'

'Mai.'

Something touched her chin.

Mai flung herself to the side, smacking her head hard against the floor. Bursts of light danced across her vision as she blinked up at a shocked Naru.

He'd touched her.

He'd touched her with his pen. Just his pen.

'Shit!' she gasped. 'Shit, Naru. Don't! Just don't. Don't touch me. Why aren't you listening? Do you walk into a kennel if someone tells you that the dog inside is rabid? Do you? Do you? Do—' Mai gagged on her words, choking—rails of wet, rib-cracking coughs racked her body.

Ayako shouted her name, but she could barely see the woman through her tears. Something cold pressed beneath her shirt, and slender hands spread across Mai's back. 'What the—?' Ayako whispered, yanking the back of Mai's shirt upward. 'Sweet Kami-sama, sweetheart, what happened to you?'

Mai struggled to tug her shirt back down and hide her scars, but Ayako had better grip and more strength. Whimpering, she tried her best to at least sit up, but Ayako wouldn't even allow that.

'Are you seeing this, Naru?' Ayako breathed.

A blanket brushed against Mai's leg, and she jerked her knees up to her chest.

'Naru!' Lin's sharp voice came from the doorway.

'Not now,' Naru said, his own voice coming centimetres away from Mai's ear.

Cowering even lower, Mai blinked up at Lin's dark form. Shikigami circled above him. 'Don't touch her.'

Something small flickered behind Lin. The outline of a person. A child. A boy in a blue hoodie. In one hand he clenched a long necklace made of teeth. Cold, gritty laughter echoed from every corner of the room. _'Hello, Mai_,' Kennel Boy cackled.

Mai shattered. She wasn't human anymore. She was just a frightened animal, tearing around. The world became a meaningless commotion of colour and noise. Her skin burned. The floor froze. The air ravaged her throat and her lungs. She clenched her eyes tightly, but even then she could see Kennel Boy as clear as day—his approaching footsteps measured and interminable. No, no, it was better with her eyes open. Better to see. Better to know.

Kennel Boy held a finger to his lips—gesturing for silence—as he crept around Lin's long legs.

Mai wrenched against restraining hands. Her wild eyes focused momentarily on her captor—Ayako—before floundering and straining backward until she'd wedged herself beneath the hospital bed. Like a feral cat.

Kennel Boy dropped to his knees and scurried forward.

Mai had no words to express her terror, only long and unbearable screams.

Kennel Boy lashed out with his tooth necklace, using it like a barbed whip. It stabbed deep into Mai's aura, shredding it. Agony swamped her, and her screams deepened, coming from her very soul.

Naru reached for her.

'Stop! Naru, stop!' Gasping for breath, Masako Hara flung herself forward—her corporeal form smashing through Kennel Boy—and she wrenched Naru backward. 'Your brother says that if you touch her you'll both die!'

Kennel Boy broke apart, dissolving into blue and red mist that snaked around her and absorbed into the deep psychic wounds. The word _soon_ resonated through Mai's body and laughter burrowed into her mind.

Like dirty mop water poured from a bucket, Mai spilled outward on the floor. Her head, too heavy for her neck to support, rested against Ayako's leg. She couldn't catch a breath, couldn't make a sound.

Eyes dry and hollowed, she couldn't bring herself to look at anyone—even when the miko pulled her from beneath the bed and cradled her, rocked her back and forth, and whispered against Mai's hair, 'Everything is okay now. You're safe. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you—not ever again. You're safe now.'


	22. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Five hours on from her total breakdown at Matsuzaki Community General Hospital, things were no less complicated—but at least Mai'd had the opportunity to bathe.

Perched on the edge of the tub, Mai pulled the towel taut around her shoulders. Even the scorching-hot water hadn't loosened the icy lump in her chest. She should've felt relieved to be in her own flat, but trepidation consumed her. In her very own living room waited a sharp-eyed miko, a crabby spiritual medium, and an all-over piqued ghost.

She did not, however, have a narcissistic paranormal researcher awaiting her—and for that she owed a great deal of gratitude to hospital protocol and Bou-san, who remained by his side.

On trembling legs Mai moved to the sink and leaned against the counter. The murmured voices of Masako and Ayako crept in from beneath the door, and Mai could almost imagine that she was back in time on some SPR case, except…. Mai wiped steam from the mirror. She looked the same. That is to say, she looked awful. Beyond the point of dark pillowed circles, sallow hollows marred the skin beneath her eyes. The rest of her face looked like papier-mâché. With such an appearance, even Mai couldn't pretend things were like they used to be.

And it would be a mistake to try and convince herself of it. She was no longer a mere cog in the SPR machine. She was the clock in a time bomb. Or was she the explosive? Probably both. She didn't know. She couldn't keep everything straight—there were simply too many pieces to this puzzle. Kennel Boy, Naru, her tooth, the cards, Blur Face, and the marathon dreams. And now time itself seemed to slip out of her grasp.

What happened after Masako had arrived in the hospital to stop Naru? After Kennel Boy disappeared? Pain throbbed through her temples as she attempted to dredge up clear memories—but she had nothing. Nothing until the moment when Naru's voice blew apart the deep, wordless void that had engulfed her.

'_What do you mean _my brother says_?'_

_Blinking with disorientation Mai tried to piece together what had happened—but seeing as she felt only just human that task appeared impossible. All she knew was what lay before her. The room's shadows were markedly different from when she'd entered it. She sat on the hospital bed. Ayako was gone. Lin stood by the window, his shikigami prowled the ceiling. Masako stood adrift in the middle of the room, her hair and kimono slightly askew. Naru sat in the bedside chair, the blanket over his lap and his black book closed and clenched in his hands._

_Stony-faced and as impeccably dressed as ever, Gene perched on the foot of Mai's bed._

'_What do you mean _my brother says_?' Naru demanded again, his voice infinitely harder as he broke his gaze away from Mai and glared at Masako._

_Masako nodded her head to where the spectral brother sat. 'Gene.'_

_Gene glanced up sharply, scowling at the doll-like medium. 'Haven't you done enough damage? Don't tell him anything else.'_

_Shying behind her kimono sleeve, Masako said, 'Pardon, but could you repeat that?'_

'_Don't-o tell-o him anything else-o. Hai?' the ghost said unkindly._

_Masako looked to Mai. 'Did you catch any of that?'_

_She nodded slowly. The world wobbled, and she had to close her eyes for a moment. Words, thoughts were difficult. Her throat felt as though she'd swallowed shards of glass. 'Don't… don't tell Naru anything else.'_

'_Don't tell me what?' Naru's curt voice cut Mai to the heart._

_Mai swallowed thickly, her neck straining as she looked away from both the enquirer and the answer._

_Masako made a sound, but Gene cut her off. 'Are you daft, woman? Tell him nothing. Iie thing. _No thing!_'_

_Leaning forward, Mai placed a hand near to where Gene sat. 'Don't… don't yell—she isn't deaf.' She sighed and sat straight again. That small action opened a floodgate to a massive headache. 'And it's rude.'_

_Gene threw his hands up in frustration before glaring at Mai._

'_She's a perfect medium,' Lin whispered in bafflement._

_An itchy silence drew over the room. Mai thought perhaps Gene would light into her, that Naru might argue with Lin, that Masako might storm out with her nose in the air—but none of that happened. A numbing heaviness pressed down upon her shoulders._

_Why wasn't Gene yelling? Mai had broken her promises—she'd fallen asleep in Naru's office. She'd allowed Naru to find out about Gene's earthbound situation. It was her inability to keep away from Naru that had led them there. Drawing up her legs, Mai rested her forehead on her knees. She dug her fingernails hard into her calves until her hands shook._

'_Hey, jou-chan.' Bou-san's voice sounded gentle and bittersweet. His large hand capped her skull and massaged her scalp. She hadn't even heard him enter the room. 'I think it's time someone took you home.'_

_It took her several deep breaths to find her words. 'I lost my keys.'_

'_No, you didn't,' he said as he set something onto the bed._

_Her rucksack. She reached for the zipper, but her fine motor skills deserted her trembling fingers. Finally Bou-san opened the front pocket and pulled out the keys to her flat._

'_Come on, jou-chan. My car is in the parking garage.'_

'_Takigawa-san, could I speak to you in the hall for a moment,' Lin said._

_Bou-san looked down at Mai and loosed a sigh of reluctance. 'I'll be right back,' he said, giving her head one more squeeze._

_The words _Do you promise_? echoed in her mind, but she couldn't say them. It would only hurt worse when Bou-san said he would but—_

'_I promise, Mai.'_

_The two men stepped outside and that awful heavy silence swept in like heavy smoke to once again suffocate the room. Some time and some bitter words later, it was decided that Lin would escort Ayako, Masako and Mai back to Mai's flat—Bou-san would remain with Naru in the hospital. _

_Gene chose to stick with Mai._

'You are so aggravating! You are the worst medium I have ever met!'

'I'm sorry, Matsuzuki-san, could you repeat that—I'm having difficulty hearing you over the constant incomprehensible screaming of Mai's pet.'

'I said—'

'Petto?_ Petto?_ Did you just call me a pet? Let me tell you something, missy—'

Mai flung open the bathroom door. It rebounded off the wall and smacked into her, causing her to stumble to the side and almost lose her grip on her towel. Enough was enough. She drew in a deep, composing breath. 'Gene, stop yelling. If you want to be understood, you should speak in _Japanese_—'

'This is the twenty-first century. _She should speak English_,' Gene shouted. It was the first thing he'd said to Mai since the hospital. 'And what's with the kimono?'

'Stop it!' Mai said, the fierceness of her words collapsing beneath the rusty, damaged cadence. 'You're mad at me not her—so stop spewing your bile at her.'

'I'm not—'

'And Masako, please stop taunting him. No matter how much Gene looks like… like Naru, he is only your average teenage boy. If you tease him, he will yell.'

'I _was_ going to say that I'm not mad at you—but now I'm not sure,' Gene grumped, storming off into the kitchen.

Masako looked like a flustered duck with her feathers all askew. Mai's temples throbbed with the expectation of a torrent of complaints from the medium, but Ayako put a silencing hand on Masako's shoulder and successfully defused the standoff.

'I want to look at you again.' Ayako stepped forward and cornered Mai in the bathroom doorway. 'You're very pale… and thin,' she said, taking hold of Mai in much the same way she had soothed Masako.

After her outburst, Mai couldn't find the energy to protest Ayako's ministrations, and so she looked away and let the miko poke at her as she pleased. Ayako seemed oddly concerned with Mai's left side, continuously running her hand down Mai's arm. 'I didn't know that you….' Mai flinched involuntarily as the miko grabbed her wrist to take her pulse. 'That is, I knew you had medical training, but I didn't know that you are a doctor.'

Ayako frowned at Mai's stuttering heartbeat and unceremoniously dropped her wrist. 'I'm not. Open your mouth,' she said, clicking on a tiny torchlight. Ayako manipulated Mai's face as though Mai were a hooked fish. Finally the miko turned off the torch and looked at Mai squarely. 'When did you lose the tooth?'

A shiver stole over Mai. 'When I fell,' she whispered. 'In Naru's office.'

'I didn't find a tooth when we returned to the office.'

Mai's gaze caught on Gene's for a moment before she looked away, shame heating her cheeks. 'I don't suppose you did.' Because she'd foolishly allowed Kennel Boy to get it. The mere memory set her heart thundering.

Ayako gripped her wrist again, frowning. In a cavalier tone that under other circumstances would have made Mai smile, the miko explained, 'I have one year left in medical school plus a residency—but I decided to take a little time off before committing to a medical career.'

'A little time off?' Masako asked archly. 'Like perhaps two years?'

Ayako shot Masako a dirty look before resuming her scrutiny of Mai.

'But Father Endo called you Matsuzaki-_sensei_ at the hospital,' Mai said as Ayako turned her around.

'I can't be held accountable for people's misassumptions,' Ayako said, tugging at Mai's towel. 'Now let me see the scarring again.'

Mai stumbled as she yanked the towel back. Ayako couldn't remove the scars—and Mai wasn't ready to share how she'd received them. She and Gene barely talked about that night.

Her ghostly guardian paused in his pacing. 'Drop towel and show all. It's not like I haven't seen your naked butt before.'

'Pervert.'

Hands still gripping the towel, Ayako followed Mai's gaze toward the kitchen. She frowned for a moment before a kind of comprehension swept across her face. She let go of the towel and gave Mai a little smile. 'You've tried mighty hard to make us think otherwise, but you're still the same old Mai.'

Mai didn't feel like the same old Mai. She felt knackered. Old. Soiled. Damaged. Like a bad imitation. She felt—

The doorbell rang. Or at least that's what Mai assumed the ding-dong sound was, as she'd never actually had anyone come to her door before. Not even a postman.

'That must be Lin,' Masako murmured as she glided toward the foyer. Even after all the events that day, the medium still exuded elegance. Mai'd never be that graceful.

'I better put on some clothing,' she sighed, returning to the safety of the bathroom and closing the door.

Her torn jeans and a t-shirt hung from a hook. Saggy and tattered and stained. She pulled them on and then glanced into the mirror.

She looked more skeletal in the clothing than she had in the towel. Ayako was going to have a fit. The last thing she wanted was to upset the miko further. In fact all Mai really wanted to do was crawl onto the couch with Ayako and let the miko tell her pretty lies about being safe—did that make Mai weak? It certainly made her a hypocrite. For months she'd been avoiding them. Keeping them safe by keeping them away. How could she put everyone in danger now? Could she in good conscience ask them for help?

Lin's arrival didn't make things any easier. Like Naru, he was determined to turn everything into an SPR case. But wasn't that what Kennel Boy wanted? Wasn't she playing right into Kennel Boy's plans? What was she supposed to do?

How had she ended up here? She knew how—she'd let herself get swept up in the SPR current. She'd become nothing more than driftwood left to move at the whim of a half-dozen grappling riptides. She hadn't made a single active decision since Naru swept into Gin Knockers.

She needed to make a decision.

Sunlight glinted off the bathroom window. Small and square, it was situated high on the wall beside the toilet. She'd never tried to open it before—she'd never had the need.

Putting down the toilet seat cover, Mai puzzled over the sanity of her actions. Being a faux-old fashioned western toilet, the narrow bowl was set well apart for the wall and the water tank was mounted only 30 centimetres from the ceiling. She could probably stand up on the seat, but getting back down would be a problem—

Except that she wasn't going to get back down. She was going to take matters into her own hands. She was going to escape out the window.

Resolved, she stepped up onto the toilet and strained toward the escape route. For once her malnourished body was going to work for her—not even Masako was petite enough to follow her out. The toilet cover wobbled as she pushed up on the window sash.

Nothing.

She dug her hands in hard and angled her body precariously, but no matter how she strained, the window would not open.

'You'll hurt yourself,' Gene said.

Startled, Mai tottered backward and grabbed for anything to keep herself from plummeting to the tiled floor. Her hands wrapped around the toilet's old-fashioned pull-chain. Water gurgled in the tank as the chain held her weight for a moment—and then the chain snapped and Mai slammed down to the floor with her bare feet in the air.

Water whirled in the toilet bowl and casually flushed down the drain.

Gene stood over Mai. 'What did you think you were doing?'

'Making a decision,' she said, blinking up at him.

He raised an eyebrow. 'Looks to me like you were running away. Again.'

'I can't let them get involved.'

'Too late for that,' he grumbled, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub and continuing to look down at her. 'Between that _kimon mark_ you've gotten somehow and that stupid Masako and her big mouth.'

'But didn't you find her and tell her—'

Fury lit his eyes. 'I told her to stop Naru. I told her _not_ to tell him about me—but clearly we're having communication problems. She's not particularly gifted.'

Aching all over, Mai struggled to sit upright. 'She's the best spiritualist in Japan!'

Gene raised an eyebrow and looked Mai up and down. 'She is not.'

Ridiculous. If Mai was even half the spiritualist Masako was, she'd have already gotten rid of Kennel Boy. She certainly would not have allowed the situation to escalate to the point wherein merely touching Naru would kill him. Mai'd never be able to thank Masako enough for stopping Naru at the hospital…. 'Wait. How did Masako know…? How did _you_ know that if Naru touched me, he'd—'

'The kimon mark.' He grimace like the words tasted bad in his mouth. 'It isn't something you see everyday—and I'd like to point out that it _was_ the size of a pea… or perhaps a tooth… when you ran out of SPR. It now covers your entire left side.' He pointed to Mai's mouth, and she tongued the gape left by the missing molar. 'Did you happen to lose that tooth in the dreamscape? To Kennel Boy?'

Mai struggled to swallow the lump in her throat as she nodded. Why was everything so transparent to Gene but utterly confusing to her? 'Kimon?' Where had she heard that term before? It was what Lin had called… 'The Demon's Gate? But that's just a term for the spiritual implications of any north-easterly direction—'

'Yes… and no.' Gene sighed and crossed one ankle over the other—his lecturer pose. 'Your kimon mark is more like a gouge in your aura, like a welcome sign on a kimon—you'll be more susceptible to possession now. You won't have to be in a dream-state for Kennel Boy to latch on to you. To latch onto Naru via you.'

Mai stood and checked out her reflection. She didn't see anything but her nearly living dead form in her stained and torn _Sometimes I worry about zombies_ t-shirt. 'And you can _see this kimon mark_?'

Gene pointed at the left side of her body. 'Like I said, it's a… gouge… on your aura. But even if I couldn't see that, I'd know it was true from the way you acted in the office. The way you didn't let Naru touch you. The urgency.'

Mai squinted at her reflection but still saw nothing. 'Can Masako see it?'

Gene made a face like he was sucking on a lemon. 'As incompetent as she may be, I doubt she'd be able to miss it.'

'Great,' Mai said, drawing in a deep breath. Scooping up her discarded towel, she folded it and draped it over a railing. 'Lose a tooth, gain a portal to Hell.'

'To a hell or purgatory or some other realm altogether. Don't discount Dante's _Divine Comedy_,' he said in his know-it-all voice. The voice that wasn't quite as successful as….

Mai wouldn't think of that person. She couldn't. Not if she wanted to stay in control. She had to focus. Focus on Gene first, and then…. Focus on Gene first. 'Please keep your purely Christian explanations to yourself.'

Gene smiled—perhaps because of her words, perhaps because of the way she drew herself up and pulled herself together. He gestured toward the bathroom door as he said: 'I simply meant _the afterlife is complicated_.'

Mai frowned at the door. 'So you're expecting me to go out there and what?'

'Make decisions without falling off toilets,' he said, and Mai scowled. 'We talk to Lin. We make him understand that Naru can't be involved.'

'We?'

'You.'

Mai clenched and unclenched her hands several times. 'Why is it always me?'

'With great power comes great responsibility,' Gene said as he walked through the wall.

Clasping the doorknob, she whispered to herself: 'I thought it was _great responsibility, great accountability_.'

Gene's head popped through the wall again. 'That's from FDR's "The Four Freedoms" speech—mine's more appropriate,' he said before disappearing again. His muffled voice came from the living room: 'It's from _Spiderman_.'

'Fighto,' Mai whispered to herself—and felt more stupid for it. 'I can do this.'

Stepping out of the bathroom, the scent of takeaway food bombarded her. Her stomach gurgled. Containers laden the dining table, their covers off and steam rising from inside.

Lin paced in the foyer, a mobile phone pressed to his ear. He paused for a moment and gestured toward the food. _Eat_.

Someone had put out plastic plates and mismatched bowls like it was Mai's best china—which of course it was—but neither Ayako nor Masako had dug into the food. Instead Ayako stared into the kitchen while Masako looked at the table with a mystified expression.

Mai shrugged and moved from container to container, helping herself to a little of everything. Lin had picked an eclectic selection of dishes—from curry to gyoza to korokke. Everything did seem a little… beige. It made her wonder about Lin and Naru's diet.

'There's no sauce,' Masako said. 'And no rice.'

'And no tea,' Ayako added. 'You only have coffee.'

Poor Lin, the stress of everything had clearly taken a toll on his takeaway ordering abilities. Mai settled into a chair and nudged out the one beside her for Gene to sit.

'Mai!' Ayako said sharply, and Mai paused with her chopsticks hovering in the air. 'Where is your food?'

Mai glanced down at her heaping plate.

'In your kitchen, you moron,' Masako explained unkindly. 'Where is the food in your kitchen?'

Mai shrugged. She rarely kept food in the house, and she'd been drinking coffee, and she'd run out of rice last week. 'Why don't you ask Lin? Shouldn't he have gotten those things with the rest of the meal?'

'Don't be ridiculous, Mai. It is bad enough that we must eat takeaway, at the very least we can have fresh rice and sauce that has not been watered down,' Masako said.

'Sorry,' Mai said, struggling to swallow too much curry.

'Bloody princess,' Gene muttered.

'What did he say?' Masako snapped. 'And why isn't he fluent in Japanese like Naru?'

'Just because we're twins doesn't mean we share a brain.'

'Well that's obvious,' Mai whispered before tucking into the curry again.

Gene threw her a dirty look before continuing to rage at Masako. 'And I am fluent. You just suck!'

Masako hide behind her sleeve and gave a dainty shrug. She clearly had no idea what Gene was on about.

'He says that he is speaking Japanese,' Mai explained to Ayako as Masako seemed to be locked in a staring contest with the ghostly brother. 'Masako is merely having difficulty understanding him.'

'Understanding him?' Masako seethed. 'He's like a poorly tuned television. Half the time he blinks out and the other half has the sound out of sync. And there's a _glow_ about him.'

Gene straightened the collar of his shirt. 'I do have a lovely complexion. It's all about a good moisturising regime.'

Mai choked a little as she laughed. 'And don't forget your winning smile and ego to match.'

'I'm glad to see that Gene is keeping you in good spirits,' Lin said. He snapped his mobile closed and sauntered through the living room—a deceptive casualness in the gait. 'Gene was always very good at that.'

'When he isn't getting on my nerves,' Mai muttered.

'And he was always very good at that too. But the question is, why hasn't he passed on?' Lin asked, taking the seat at the end of the dining table beside Mai. Nudging the container of curry away, he set up his laptop on the table. Beside the laptop he set his mobile and linked the two with a USB cable.

Mai glanced at Gene nervously—only to find Ayako millimetres from sitting on him. 'No!' Mai squeaked, and Ayako jerked back with surprise. 'I mean, Gene is sitting there—'

'No sense in me taking up a chair,' Gene said, standing and moving to hover over Lin's shoulder. 'I'll keep track of what Lin is writing down.'

Mai laughed nervously. 'It's okay now,' she explained. 'He moved. You can sit, Ayako.'

Ayako gave a long-suffering sigh before settling into the seat and muttering about a cold spot.

'Where is Gene now?' Lin asked, looking up from the laptop. When Mai vaguely pointed to where the ghost stood behind him, Lin looked in the direction and smiled, 'Hello, Gene.'

'Hey you, Lin. Made any progress with Madoka yet?'

Lin looked at Mai.

'Um… Gene says _hey you_, and… and he's asking how Madoka-san is,' Mai explained, her face flushed. She didn't know Lin had a thing for Madoka-san.

Lin made a knowing sound. 'Madoka is just fine.'

Ayako leaned in and whispered, 'Are you talking about Madoka? You know she'd pregnant, right? Apparently her morning sickness is pretty bad, and it's got Lin's panties in a twist. That's all part of becoming a daddy, right?'

Lin cleared his throat. 'Taniyama-san, I'll be sure let my wife know that Gene enquired after her.'

Mai was about to ask when they got married, but Gene pointed at Lin and made a gesture like he was zipping his lips shut. Mai nodded and gave voice to his protest. 'Gene'd like to minimise the number of people who know he's here.'

'Can we please speak in Japanese?' Ayako asked.

'Weren't we?' Mai glanced around the room, perplexed.

Masako and Ayako seemed baffled, and Lin made that knowing sound again. 'Had we realised earlier you are a perfect medium, we wouldn't have left you,' Lin said. 'You need training.'

'Gene… Gene's here to look out for Naru… and me, I guess.' Temporarily distracted by the ferocity with which Gene gripped his hair, Mai stumbled over her words—she guessed he wanted her to stop talking about him. 'I thought we were going to talk about… about _Naru_.'

'You're quite right,' Lin said. 'But don't mistake me, Taniyama-san. We will discuss your growing psychic abilities again. For now, though, you seem to have gotten yourself into a situation. I'd like to do some preliminary investigation to ascertain a course of action. I've set up a live feed, so that Naru can follow my notes as we commence with this inquiry.' Gene passed his hand through the laptop. Lin frowned and tapped purposefully at the keys. 'But the connection has dropped.'

Mai sighed with relief.

'I think Gene did something to it,' Masako said.

Mai and Gene glared at the medium. And as Gene lit off into another tirade, Mai said rather sheepishly, 'We'd prefer if you didn't involve Naru.'

'That won't be possible. Naru is SPR's greatest asset,' Lin said. 'Furthermore, if you have put Naru's life in jeopardy—I'm afraid you can't withhold information.'

Gene broke off his rant to insist: 'Mai, ask him to listen to you first.'

But that seemed crazy. Of course Lin was going to tell Naru everything, and the moment Naru found out, he'd be all over Mai like she were the greatest SPR case in history—and then Kennel Boy….

A fist of panic slammed into her hard, clenched her throat and shook her bodily. All Kennel Boy's plans were coming together. This was what he wanted. What he'd planned for. If Lin told Naru everything, it would mean all her months of suffering, of torture, of ceaseless fighting would have been for nothing. Naru would die. Her lungs heaved ineffectually.

'Look at me, Mai,' Gene said as he knelt beside her.

All at once her living room seemed as airless and confined as a fishbowl. 'I don't know what to do.'

'You need to look at me.'

Slowly Mai turned to face Gene. More reluctant still, she lifted her eyes to meet his. 'What did we decide was the most dangerous aspect of Kennel Boy?'

The cold clamped around her, and she drew her knees up to her chest. 'His ability—'

'In Japanese,' Gene coaxed.

Mai scrubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth and tried again. 'Kennel Boy's most dangerous ability is that he can transcend reality by hijacking my dreams and bursting out of my back?' she whispered.

'More dangerous than that,' Gene insisted, but Mai couldn't come up with anything more frightening and powerful than that. 'His ability to adapt.'

'His ability to change his game plan,' she said, recalling what Gene had said that before. 'Kennel Boy's ability to adapt makes him even more dangerous than the enshrined god that Naru destroyed during the Yoshimi Inn case… and he wants to hijack my body to kill Naru.'

'Who is this boy?'

Mai's body jerked with surprise at the sound of Ayako's voice. Looking over her shoulder at the miko, she shook her head helplessly. 'I don't know. I mean, I know—he's the one that wants to kill Naru. But I don't know his real name. I don't know much at all—only that… that he's put a _kimon_ _mark_ on me and he'll use it, use me, to get to Naru….'

'A kimon mark?' Lin said sharply.

Sleeve lifted to her mouth, Masako added distastefully: 'I was wondering what that was.'

'How did you get it?' Lin demanded, fingers poised on his keyboard.

Gene hurried back to stand beside Lin, and then nodded that it was okay—the live link to Naru's computer was still disconnected.

'It started when Kennel Boy took my tooth in the dream at Naru's office,' Mai explained, looking to Ayako to confirm the loss of tooth.

'You lost a tooth in a dream and in reality?' Lin said, tapping away at the keyboard.

'Yes. I've been having trouble with… with….' She didn't have the Japanese words for it. Frustration washed through her. _Japanese_ was her native tongue, not _English_. What was her problem? '_Transcendental dream state_. _Transference. Traces_.' Mai spread her hands out feebly, and looked to Gene: 'Help?'

'I think you got your point across,' Gene said, looking pointedly at Lin.

The onmyoji's fingers were frozen above the keyboard. 'Anything else?' he asked in a thin whisper.

'The kimon mark got bigger after Kennel Boy appeared at the hospital—I mean, I don't actually think he _appeared _appeared. I think my brain went a little crazy—'

Lin nodded. 'You were on the verge of collapse from the aura cleansing that you did on Naru. I'm not surprised that your waking- and dream-state overlapped some. Tell me about the scars on your back.'

Mai struggled to swallow. 'That happened when Kennel Boy hit me with an energy blast, so I… caught it… that is, I re-spun it… I redirected it back through me at him, but he must have done the same—that is, he spun himself into the return and tried to transcend reality… through my back.'

'And this was before you got the kimon mark?'

Mai nodded, placing her hand on the table next to the laptop. 'He wants to get into reality. To kill Naru.'

Lin stared at Mai's hand as though it had betrayed him. 'What have you done?'

Flinching, Mai withdrew her hand.

'Now wait one minute!' Ayako snapped, causing Mai to flinch harder. '_Have you considered that you might have the wrong end of the stick, here_?'

'You don't honestly think this is Naru's fault,' Masako said.

'Of course it is!' Ayako yelled.

'I don't know whose fault it is,' Mai shouted—the strain triggering another coughing fit. Her ribs ached with the exertion. Ayako rubbed her back until she had enough breath to speak again: 'All I know is that Kennel Boy is hell-bent on hurting Naru. _On killing him_. First, Kennel Boy planned to just torment me until I begged for help, but then he decided to kill me and make Naru watch, but then he decided to torment me until I killed myself and make Naru watch. Then he decided to hijack my body to come into reality to kill Naru himself. Then he put the kimon mark on me… I think. I think that's the order of things. So much has happened—Kennel Boy is so unpredictable….' Mai looked up at Gene helplessly, and he nodded his encouragement. 'All I really know is that Kennel Boy wants Naru _near_. He wants him _involved_. He wants Naru to know that he is being hunted.'

'And that Kennel Boy isn't afraid to _torture, maim and kill Mai in the process_,' Ayako seethed.

'So you understand why you can't let Naru become involved,' Mai pleaded with Lin.

'That is absolutely why _Naru should be told!_' Ayako argued. '_He needs to take some responsibility_!'

'You are absolutely correct, Taniyama-san.'

'You've got to be kidding me!' Ayako said, pushing away from the table.

'I need to make a full inquiry into this before making any further decisions,' Lin said, unplugging his mobile from his laptop.

'Mai, you can't honestly—noooo, of course you can. This is ridiculous,' Ayako continued to fume. In a furious flurry, she crammed lids onto the takeaway containers. Mai looked at the noodles and curry longingly, and at the last moment, Ayako slopped another helping into Mai's plate.

Masako stood and passed Ayako her untouched plate. 'I suppose someone should make coffee,' she said haughtily and glided toward the kitchen.

Amidst the nauseating sudden motion, Mai fixed her eyes on the only steady object—Gene. 'It's the best we'll get from Lin for the time being,' he said. 'He'll keep quiet for now.'

Lin slid out of his jacket, and draped it on the back of his chair. 'I want you to start from the beginning. Tell me everything that has happened since your first interaction with this boy.'

'And while you're at it, how you came to live _here_,' Masako added as she frowned as the kitchen's massive espresso machine. 'This is a very nice flat, Mai.'

'You'll forgive me, Hara-san, but we will leave the social chitchat for later,' Lin said. 'Taniyama-san, please focus. The beginning.'

'The beginning….'

Two hours of questions went by. Somewhere along the way, Mai stopped eating—the oily noodles piled on her plate reminding her of worms. Her throat felt as though it bled with every word, and no amount of caffeine could liven her body.

'Are you nearly finished grilling her?' Ayako asked. She'd been wandering around the flat while she listened to the enquiry, flipping through books and playing with Mai's homemade paper. Masako, on the other hand, had dozed off on the couch.

'Almost finished,' Lin said, browsing through his notes. 'Does this summarise your case? You first dreamed of an entity that took the form of a young boy at the start of October—'

'October 8th,' Ayako clarified. 'If it happened two days after Bou-san and I left for Australia, that puts it on October 8th.'

'Thank you, Matsuzaki-san,' Lin said, editing his notes. 'You first dreamed of an entity that took the form of a young boy on October 8th, in which you were forced into a large dog kennel with some corpses—'

'Three,' Mai interrupted. 'There were three girls. Dead girls.'

'A kennel with _three corpses_—'

'Girls,' Mai insisted. 'I'm sorry, Lin-san. It's just… they _were_ people. _Real people._ _Girls_. I don't feel right just calling them corpses, like they were old beer bottles or used tyres.'

'It's just a summary, Taniyama-san,' Lin said with a long-suffering sigh.

'To you, maybe,' Mai whispered. 'No. I'm sorry. Please continue.'

'You first dreamed of an entity that took the form of a boy on October 8th, in which you were forced into a large dog kennel with the corpses of three girls; thus, the pseudonym _Kennel Boy_, by which the entity shall henceforth be known.' Lin paused as though he suspected further protest. When none came, he continued, 'On this occasion the entity Kennel Boy made his objective clear. He wished for you to ask Naru for help.'

'Not exactly.'

'_Mai_,' Lin grumbled.

'Well he never specified _Naru_. He just wanted me to scream. It kept on like that for a while, and then I came to the conclusion that it was _Gene_ he wanted me to scream for—'

'Seriously, Mai?' Ayako asked, her eyebrow twitching with annoyance. 'You were trying to protect Gene too?'

'Only for a little bit! I only thought that for a little while. Kennel Boy clarified that it was Naru soon after.'

'How soon after?' Lin asked.

'Round about the time Kennel Boy tried to burst through my back into reality,' Mai admitted, fixing her eyes on her plate of noodles. They really, _really _looked like worms now. Almost like they were wriggling.

Exhaustion must've been messing with her vision.

'You mean _exactly_ when he tried to burst through your back,' Gene growled. 'Every time I think of that night I get so—_fuck_. You listen to me well, Mai: I don't need your protection. Your sacrifice—' Gene broke eye contact, scowling into the distance. His expression was oddly fierce and introverted, like he was sorting through pieces to an entirely different puzzle.

Mai'd seen him with the expression before—she hadn't liked it then and she didn't like it now. It made her stomach turn cold. 'Gene…?' Whispering the words didn't make them an easier to say. 'You're scaring me. You're thinking about something that has to do with why you're here.'

'You know I can't talk about that.' His heated glare caused blisters of unease to bubble through Mai's body. 'It isn't connected to Kennel Boy.'

Mai swallowed thickly. 'Is it connected to me?'

'No.'

She couldn't look away—couldn't blink. Couldn't keep the bitter tears from welling. 'So why are you here with me if it has nothing to do with me?'

'You need to focus on Naru,' Gene insisted.

The tears escaped down her face. '_I am thinking of Naru_.'

'You think of him too much, if you ask me,' Ayako said, draping a blanket around Mai's shoulders. 'I don't know what this ghostly twin is saying to you, but I think he should watch his tongue and consider himself lucky. With all the charms you've got in this flat, I'm sure you could exorcise him to kingdom come.'

'Clearly we'll never make it through this summary,' Lin said, turning away from the laptop. He folded both arms on the table and leaned toward Mai. 'Kennel Boy has a grudge against Naru, and so he is striking out at Naru's vulnerable spot. You. _Don't interrupt._ You're the person he most cares for since Gene's death. _Don't interrupt._ But as Kennel Boy comes to understand your many psychic abilities, Mai, he is adapting his plan. With the kimon mark, he'll be able to possess you—perhaps even force your soul permanently from your body. We need to put a seal on the mark until we find a way to get rid of it.'

'That I can do,' Ayako said, squeezing Mai's shoulders. 'That I can absolutely do.'

'Without tree spirits?' Mai asked.

'No tree spirits necessary. Just a lot of spell paper,' she said, smiling at Mai's papermaking workshop.

'And we keep my brother out of the loop,' Gene said.

Even as Mai opened her mouth to repeat Gene's request, Lin nodded in understanding: 'Let me deal with Oliver.'


	23. Chapter 21

Unlucky: Part b 16

VivaEdina

**Chapter 21**

'How long does it take to make a few charms?' Gene sat at the top of the stairs and grumbled as he stood watch over the flat—or to be more specific, he watched Ayako who was writing charms at the dining table. The process was taking longer than expected because Ayako approved of about thirty percent of Mai's homemade spell paper. Apparently her choice to use mulberry leaves and bark had been a good one.

Gene kicked petulantly at the stair. 'We're wasting time,' he grumbled.

'What's your almighty rush? Got a hot date at the Misa Shin Gallery?' Mai smirked.

Gene chose to ignore the half-hearted jab and continued to scowl down at Ayako. With all his groaning and moaning and muttering to himself, Mai thought perhaps Gene missed Masako in his own perverse way.

Since Lin was heading to the hospital to waylay Naru, he'd offered to give the medium a lift home. She'd been crying foul—Gene drained the very energy from her, _whinge and whine_—since she'd woken from her nap. Of course Gene had a lot to say about Masako taking a nap in the first place. Needless to say, it got repetitive might fast.

Mai was currently—and rather unsteadily—changing the sheets on her bed. She'd already put fresh sheets on the spare bed that had been used as an extension of Gene's office in the other part of the loft. It seemed pathetic that it took so much concentration and fumbling to complete such a simple task, but Mai was nearing 48 hours without rest—and that was only if she counted her time in Naru's office as sleep.

'Why won't it stay flat?' she muttered to herself. Every time she smoothed out the duvet a new lump would appear just out of reach. Like a family of small rodents were burrowing beneath the blankets. 'Gene, how many hours of sleep deprivation does it take before you start to go crazy?'

'I read government agencies can induce sleep deprivation hallucinations in under 24-hours,' Gene said, not even bothering to look at her.

'Bollocks. That's just something out of a James Bond film.'

'I'm just telling you what I read,' he said. 'I'm sure it won't be _too_ long now. That miko will give you a nice little charm and tuck you into bed.' Finally he turned to give her a smile, but it fell as he took in the bed. 'How did you manage that?'

'So I'm not imagining the lumps.'

'Lumps? Mai, the duvet cover is inside out.'

Mai scrubbed at her eyes, and her vision focused. The quilted cover's ragged seams and fraying edges flaunted themselves—like they were celebrating a rare opportunity to be seen in public.

Groaning she set about the laborious task of rectifying the mistake—and somehow in the process she managed to tangle herself inside the duvet cover. Essentially she'd trapped herself inside a blanket-sized pillowcase. She could see the floor, which meant she could see the exit, but finding the energy to crawl out of the bedding was another story. She flopped on her back and stared up at the patchwork sky.

'Lost?' Bou-san peeked inside the cover.

Damned near crying again, Mai forced a smile and held her arms out to the monk. 'Stuck.'

'Bless your little heart. Come here, kiddo,' he said, reaching in and easily plucking her from her fabric confines. He hugged her too tightly, but Mai didn't have the energy nor did she have the will to protest. Eventually he released her enough so that he could tap a finger against her nose. 'Now I want to talk to you about Gin Knockers.' Mai groaned, but he'd have none of it. 'You told us that you were working in a café.'

'Okay, I'm sorry I lied,' she said, backing out of his grip and sitting on the edge of the bed. 'I just didn't want to disappoint you—I mean, I thought maybe you might worry.'

'_Might _worry? Honestly, you can be so—' His jaw ticked and a flush spread up from his neck—but instead of yelling, he neatly righted the duvet cover and folded it tidily at the end of the bed. By the time he finished the task, his flush had receded. 'You did at least try to ring when your flat burned down, right?'

'Yes! Absolutely—'

'But what I don't understand is why you didn't tell us when you were evicted from the flat near your old high school?'

Mai smiled with bitter-sweetness as she thought of the first flat she'd ever lived in on her own. The flat she'd called home when she worked for SPR. 'I wasn't evicted—I just chose to leave when I couldn't afford the rent.'

'That must have been some expensive flat,' he said. 'Because I know for a fact that Lin gave you a large severance cheque when they closed the office.'

Mai's fake laugh started too loud and trailed off too fast. 'Would you believe me if I told you I was trying to be economically savvy?'

He cast a doubtful glance around her current flat.

'This place's rent is cheap as chips. It had a little… infestation… problem when I moved in, but that's all taken care of. Plus I'm renting from the brother of a friend. Kiki….' Gooseflesh broke out all over her arms. 'I work with Kiki at Gin Knockers—sort of. But my manager said she hasn't come to work for almost a week. I'm a little worried about her.'

'Don't you think you've got enough to worry about already?' Bou-san asked.

'I don't know about you, but I don't really work like that. _This month I've reached my worry capacity of 50,000; therefore, I shall be troubled no more._ I mean, it doesn't seem right,' Mai said, shrugging.

'And I'm sure you've had well more than 50,000 worries this month.'

'Oh I stopped counting. No, scratch that, I never even started counting. When you're the poster girl for Murphy's Law, what's the point, right?'

'You need someone looking out for you.'

Mai made a fist in the duvet. 'Gene does his best.'

'I was thinking someone a little more corporeal, actually.'

'What are you two whispering about?' Ayako asked, coming up the stairs and joining them on the edge of the bed.

'Bou-san was just about to make me a marriage proposal.'

'You perverted old monk,' Ayako said, playfully smacking Bou-san on the back of the head with her open palm.

Flinching good-naturedly, Bou-san joked, 'Actually I was going to suggest Mai propose to _Naru_!'

_Naru_. The balloon in Mai's chest swelled painfully.

'Shut up, you idiot,' Ayako said, this time smacking Bou-san in earnest.

Mai drew her knees to her chest and poured all her concentration into not crying. It didn't really work, and she ended up sniffling. 'I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm tearing up.'

'You're exhausted,' Ayako said, 'that's why. I've made you some charms that should seal the kimon mark for the time being. And this one here should put a barrier between you and any spiritual energy. I wanted to put more charms around the flat, a mori-shio pile outside the doorway, and scatter maki-shio around the property—but I'm afraid it will expel Gene. For now wearing these charms will have to suffice.' The miko dropped four charms over Mai's head, each strung on its own necklace.

'I don't want to go to sleep,' Mai said, squirming as Bou-san pulled her into the centre of the bed.

'You're being ridiculous. You need to sleep,' Ayako said, tossing the duvet over Mai.

No matter how she squirmed, she couldn't escape from beneath the bedding. Ayako had her pinned on one side, and Bou-san on the other. 'I don't like being bossed around either,' she gritted out.

'Well someone has to do it,' the miko said, tucking a pillow beneath Mai's head.

'And it might as well be Ayako because, let's face it, she's old enough to be your mother,' Bou-san quipped and instantly held up the spare pillow to shield himself from another smack.

'You had to get an age joke in there, didn't you?' Ayako seethed. 'And I'll have you know that were Mai my daughter, I would have given birth to her at the age of _seven_. _Seven!_ You, however, are clearly old enough to be her father. In fact, I think it is wholly inappropriate for you to be sitting on a bed with her.'

'No,' Mai protested, getting a hand free of the covers and gripping Bou-san's arm. 'Don't leave.'

'We won't leave, but you need to sleep.'

'Not for too long, though. You've got to wake me up in a few hours, or else….'

'Or else what?'

'You don't know what he can do.'

'This boy?' Bou-san asked.

'He's not a boy. I don't know what he is. Just don't leave me alone with him for too long.'

'I won't leave you alone with him at all,' Bou-san said, sliding an arm beneath her shoulders. From his pocket he took out a large locket. He flipped it open to show her a beautiful etching of Buddha. 'Lin says you've been tracing objects. I want you to take this with you when you go to sleep,' he said, closing the locket and pressing it into Mai's palm. 'It will see you home safely.'

Mai turned the locket over in her hand. Despite the ornate metal etchings, it felt smooth—like many a contemplative hand had worried away the edges. 'Is there anything I should look for while I'm there,' she asked, attempting to sound as casual as though she were asking if she should pick anything else up at the corner shop.

'Just your safety,' Ayako said, smoothing the duvet around Mai's neck.

Gene stood at the foot of the bed, mouth thin and jaw set. 'We need a name.'

Mai nodded and closed her eyes—one hand clutching the bunch of charms and the other clenched around the locket.

_Water dripped off the roof of the circular Roman temple, and the air was thick with the after scents of a mid-spring shower. Currents rushed in a small river, which ran the length of the jewel-green park. Birds chattered softly in the luscious tree foliage. High at the top of the hills, Mai could just barely make out the edges of a stone city but if she trusted her ears, she was standing alone somewhere miles into the countryside._

_That should have terrified her—didn't most things in her dreams? But her knotted muscles unravelled in the peaceful atmosphere. The sun gently warmed her skin, and all she wanted to do was spread out a picnic blanket and laze there for the rest of her life. Perhaps this was heaven._

'_It's Saint Bernard's Well.' The Academic sauntered out from behind the temple and smiled up at the sunlight. 'And the statue is Hygieia, Goddess of Health. The waters were, for a time, considered to be medicinal. The temple itself was constructed as you see it in 1789 by Alexander Nasymth, and as I'm sure you can tell, he drew a great deal of inspiration from the Temple of Vesta at Tivoli. Italy, of course, not Denmark. Am I boring you?'_

_Heart slamming against her chest, Mai shook her head. 'What…?' What did he want? He'd never threatened her, never hurt her. He only ever looked at her with keen and curious eyes. The Academic moved with casual confidence and acted as though running across Mai were merely a pleasant surprise. Being caught in the dreamscape did not seem to faze him at all._

_He hopped the iron fence that guarded the temple and peered over his wire-framed glasses to closely inspect the marble. 'Let me guess,' he said, stepping back to gesture up at Hygieia. 'You are curious as to why the personification of good health is keeping company with a snake.'_

'_A snake?' Mai blinked in confusion. The Academic considered himself a snake?_

'_Here, wrapping around the support.' He pointed to the statue's short support column, on which rested a jar and up which the sculptor had rendered a large snake. 'Snakes represented wisdom and healing, and they were thought to carry the souls of wise ancestors.'_

_Mai nodded, perplexed but somehow engaged. The Academic's smooth and affable tone made his explanation less like a lecture and more like a relaxed chat with an old friend. When Gene offered historic insights into the exhibitions they visited, he always sounded stuffy and it took several silly remarks from Mai to lighten the mood again._

'_Do you enjoy history?' he asked._

_Mai shrugged, and The Academic chuckled._

'_Art, then?'_

'_I guess.' The marble sculpture was impressive, and the temple even more so—but she didn't think she'd be as taken with either if it weren't for the immaculately manicured park in which they were situated._

_The Academic pinched his smile as though he'd just figured something out, and he jauntily leaped over the iron fence again to join Mai on the grass. 'You have an appreciation for the natural arts. Great landscapists throughout history have instructed in many truths through the curve of a garden and the pruning of a branch.' He gestured wide. 'This is a wonderful city for those who love landscape.'_

'_I'm not from around here.'_

_He beckoned her along the path that ran beside the river. 'Well that I already knew. If you were from around here, I'd have noticed you much earlier.'_

_Mai stood her ground. 'Where's your dog?'_

_The Academic paused. 'Now why would you think I own a dog?'_

'_Because I saw you with it in the cemetery,' she whispered._

'_In the cemetery?' He dropped his glasses to the tip of his nose and squinted at her. 'I wouldn't call that old beast a _dog_. He's a Shuck.'_

'_Where's your Shuck?'_

_The Academic sighed, smiled and shook his head as though Mai had just said the most adorably ignorant thing. 'The Shuck simply _is. _It belongs to no one. Wee bairn, if you must ask such simple questions, you should not be scooting through ether and dreamscapes unescorted.' He slowly assessed her from head to toe. 'You seem to be carrying quite a load today. Four charms and a Buddha—'_

'_They were gifts.'_

_He held both hands up in surrender. 'I spoke only as an observation. Gifts are lovely. There's nothing so wonderful as a gift—nothing so powerful as a gift. Wouldn't you agree?'_

'_I'm not sure,' Mai said, biting her bottom lip. The conversation was strange to say the least, but she still did not feel threatened. The sun continued to warm her skin, and the birds cheeped and a lazy cat even meandered on the opposite bank of the river._

'_You just trust me,' he said, gesturing that she follow him along the path. _

_She took several hesitant steps, and when the marathon terrors did not grasp her, she allowed herself to stroll beside The Academic. Whether it was his presence or the charms she wore, something was keeping her safe._

_The Academic folded his hands behind his back as she'd seen some older gentlemen do. 'Have you ever considered,' he said breezily, 'that a gift given freely is worth six, nae, twelve times more than a gift given forcefully?'_

_Mai cringed. 'If it's given forcefully, is it still a gift?'_

'_That others I knew were as wise as you. Potentissimi donum donum vitae.'_

_The path passed beneath large archways that held aloft a large road. On the river, hidden in the shadows of the bridge, was a rowboat tied off against the current. A man sat in the stern and large crates made up the ballast in the bow. He lifted his head slowly to reveal a face wiped clean of all features. _

_Heart stuttering, she clutched The Academic's arm and whispered: 'That's Blur Face.'_

'_A strange sort of name,' he said, his tone vaguely curious._

'_He hurts girls,' she whispered._

'_A strange profession.' The Academic strained to look into the boat. 'To me, he appears to be a purveyor of supplies. A mere peddler upon the Water of Leith. Perhaps you are mistaken.'_

_Mai tugged on The Academic's arm. 'No! I want to leave,' she whispered harshly, and the rowboat rocked ominously._

'_You are perfectly safe with me,' The Academic insisted, patting her lightly on the hand._

'_Taniyama Mai,' Blur Face said with bafflement tingeing his voice. 'What ever are you doing _here_?'_

_The Academic looped an arm around Mai's back and hurried her along the path. 'Perhaps you are correct,' he whispered in a low voice. 'It is never good when they can call you by name.'_

'_He's a bad man.'_

'_The worlds are packed tight with "bad men" and women too. You must be ever vigilant,' The Academic advised as he hurried them along the path. 'Don't look back.' _

_It was a good long walk along the riverbank before their pace returned to one of ease. They passed small waterfalls and under smaller bridges, and crossed the river several times. For a short while the city even seemed to encroach upon the refuge until finally the walkway opened into a sun-flooded meadow._

'_Did he follow us?' Mai whispered, not sure if she was more frightened by the prospect of another run in with Blur Face or by the knowledge that, if Blur Face had appeared, Kennel Boy might not be far behind._

'_You are almost safe,' The Academic said, and he pointed across the meadow to bridge and a stone stairway that lead up the hill through a crop of trees. 'But I would not tarry no matter what you see. Follow the path to the lot, and follow the lot to the drive. It will take you to Jencks's _Landform_.'_

'_Jencks's _Landform_,' Mai said, hurrying toward the bridge but she stumbled and turned when she realised that The Academic was not following. 'You aren't coming with me?'_

'_While this visit has been most pleasant, I must return to my studio,' he said, giving her a small bow. 'You have been most stimulating, and I welcome you to visit any time. My studio window is always open. You best hurry, now. The paper you used for your charms is not particularly resilient and it does not retain energy well. Perhaps when we next meet you'll allow me to teach you a couple simple tricks.' His image wavered like a desert mirage. 'I wish you good luck and safe travels until we meet again, Taniyama Mai,' he said, and then he shimmered out of existence._

_The clouds drifted over the sun, and Mai shivered as a cold wind swept across the meadow. Flowers and long blades of grass seemed to cower to the ground. Mai gazed at the bridge and up the stairway. They seemed darker, more dangerous without The Academic's presence._

'_You heard him, Mai,' she whispered. 'Don't tarry.'_

_The river thundered beneath the bridge as she scooted across, and tree branches spread out like grappling hands across the stairway. They reminded her of the trees in Disney's _Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs_—like they'd come to life and tear at her clothes and scratch her bloody. She'd really never liked that movie. Not at all._

_Scrambling low on all fours, she worked up the stone stairway. The path seemed to grow more and more steps, and she didn't dare to look behind her for fear that she'd realise that she'd never even made it off the bridge. That was the way of marathon night terrors—and she had certainly taken her first steps into yet another._

_Finally she fell to her knees on a gravel pathway. The rocks gouged her legs, but at least she'd made it. Not far away the trees stopped, and grass gave way to a small parking lot in front of a very large three-storey building. It reminded her of an estate in a British costume drama._

'_Almost there,' she whispered and lurched forward. 'Now I need to find the drive.'_

_Sure enough, just as The Academic said, a driveway stood to the left of the building. As she rounded a few small outbuildings, the full grandeur of the edifice truly staggered her. Colossal columns held up the neo-classical portico. The front lawn was in itself a work of modern art—luscious, grassy steps curving around a paisley-shaped pond._

'_Been here long, Mai?'_

_Her stomach dropped at the familiar, gritty voice. She turned away from the landscape to see Kennel Boy lounging on the portico steps. His eyes were narrowed on her necklace of charms._

'_You appear to have been here quite a while,' he fished, and when Mai refused to oblige him, he continued: 'You should be careful to whom you speak around here.'_

_Mai scoffed and channelled enough bravado to give Kennel Boy a snide expression. 'Are you speaking as an expert on the subject?'_

_He beckoned her forward, and she couldn't help but approach. Her feet barely moved and she was already standing in front of him. 'Your false miko friend likes to make charms.' He reached out and pressed his hand against a wall of energy. It pulsed and wavered but did not crumble at the pressure. 'This won't hold much longer. And the charms won't help. Not really.'_

'_They'll stop you from using the kimon mark to cross into reality.'_

'_Is that why I put it there?' He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his scabby knees. 'I want to know why you haven't talked to your _Naru_ about me.'_

_Mai nodded to herself. Kennel Boy was using the kimon mark to spy on them. 'I won't give you what you want.'_

'_You will.'_

'_I don't care what you do to me.'_

'_But you do care about what I do to them,' he said, standing abruptly. 'Indulge me for a moment. I want to show you a little something that I've been working on for… oh let's just say I've been working on this for a long, long while. Come inside.'_

_The doors at the top of the portico opened, and Kennel Boy jogged up the stairs. Again Mai had no control over her feet. Kennel Boy might not be able to touch her, but he still seemed fully capable of driving her dreamscapes._

_The entrance lead to an extravagant foyer, and Mai had only a second to take in the beauty as well as the sign, _The Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art_. Frowning Mai wondered if Kennel Boy had been spying on her all along. This was exactly the sort of place that she and Gene would visit._

_He led her through a hallway, up a flight of stairs and through several galleries—some of which displayed works by Picasso, Ishigami, Munch—and finally into a large room displaying charcoal sketches. Some were taller than Mai, while others were series of tiny sketches. It was to one of these series that Kennel Boy drew her._

_A series that documented every angle of Mai's flat—heavily spattered in thick, dripping liquid. It didn't matter that the depictions had been rendered in black and white. The smears were unmistakably blood. _

_The sketches were clustered together in groups of four: Masako bleeding out on the foyer floor; Lin skewered to the ceiling; Bou-san dismembered in the kitchen; and Ayako bound and disembowelled on the dining table._

_Once the full realisation of what she was witnessing hit home, Kennel Boy pointed to the next series for four slightly larger and more detailed pieces: Mai standing at the top of the stairs—clothes torn and drenched, and a chain of teeth draped around her neck—blood slicking her hands and the knives in them; Naru standing amongst the carnage; Mai turning the knives on herself; and Naru coming between her and her death. _

'_I have included a few older pieces in this exhibition,' Kennel Boy said proudly, gesturing to sketches of other brutally murdered people. 'This one is of Madoka, but I'm working on a new portrait. I'm thinking of titling it _Mother and Child_. Very classical, but ultimately apt. What do you think?'_

_Bile rose in her throat. 'You disgust me.'_

_Kennel Boy hemmed to himself. 'Not quite the emotional reaction I was going for, but that's okay. All existence is merely a work of art in progress. Do you know what I call this collection? _Promises_. I like to get straight to the point.' He moseyed to the centre of the gallery. 'Why don't you come this way?' _

_Even as her body turned away, Mai strained to look over her shoulder and scrutinise each piece—not for technical appreciation, but for a signature. A name. 'You don't sign your work?'_

'_The signature of a genius is in the art itself. Now I want an honest opinion, Mai. What is your gut reaction to _this_?' he asked, gesturing to the final canvas. It stood alone at the centre of the gallery hall—an image as large as all the smaller prints put together. A tight shot at a strange angle. 'You need to stand back to appreciate it,' he explained. 'And when you look at it, I want you to remember the name of this collection.'_

_Bleeding out from several deep stomach wounds, Naru lay on the floor. Straining with terror and grief, his eyes were riveted on Mai's form as she thrusts a knife deep into her own throat._

'Wake up, Jou-chan.'

Mai sat up straight in bed, the duvet falling to her lap, and she stared downstairs. The couches were moved to one side. Shelving units and large whiteboards cluttered the living room. No corpses.

'How long was I asleep?'

Both Bou-san and Ayako flanked Mai on the bed—exactly as they had when she'd fallen sleep. Lin must've come back with the equipment. 'Four hours,' the monk said.

'Too long,' Mai whispered. Although she recognised the setup in her living room as the classic SPR base layout, something about the boards reminded her of Kennel Boy's gruesome exhibition. She shivered.

'Not long enough for your health,' Ayako said as she fumbled with the mess of charms at Mai's neck. 'Though… you've burned through these already. So maybe it was a little too long.'

'I think he's using the kimon mark to spy on us. He knows we haven't told Naru anything.'

Bou-san made a long, contemplative sound. 'Perhaps he knows because Naru hasn't taken any action?'

Mai thought about it for a moment, but her gut was telling her otherwise. 'It's the kimon mark.'

'But he didn't hurt you,' Ayako said, lifting Mai's wrist to take her pulse.

'He couldn't touch me.'

'Buddha protected you,' Bou-san said.

Ayako dropped Mai's arm unceremoniously. 'Excuse me, but I think it was my charms.'

Before the bickering got out of hand, Mai interceded: 'I think it was both. Gifts are powerful.'

Rising elegantly from his seat at the top of the stairs, Gene put on a show of disinterested calm. He picked imaginary lint from his shirt before lacing his fingers together, but for all his acting skills he could not keep the edge of urgency out of his voice. 'Did you get anything else?'

'Jencks's _Landform_… I was supposed to get there. To safety, but Kennel Boy found me first.'

'Not quite the kind of name I was after,' Gene sighed. 'But it might help.'

Wetting her lips, she explained to everyone. 'I was in Britain. I think I've been travelling there all this time.'

'You've been travelling to Britain?' Bou-san asked with an air of jealousy slipping into his voice—but he caught himself and smiled apologetically. 'Except that it hasn't been exactly a holiday treat for you, eh?'

Thinking of her time wandering beside the canal, Mai gave a little shrug. 'It isn't always bad. I got to see the very pretty parks and buildings.'

Bou-san nodded with interest. 'Lin will be glad for the information when he gets back with the other equipment. I have to tell you, he's none too happy that we let you take a nap. He wants to be here to monitor you.'

'And… and _Naru_?'

Ayako and Bou-san exchanged sour expressions. 'He checked himself out of the hospital. Probably when Lin and I were changing posts.'

'So we don't know where he is?' Mai said, casting worried eyes around the room.

'I'm sure it won't take long for him to show up here,' Gene grumbled.

'That's not good.'


	24. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Case number 13: The Unlucky Investigative Team, File 3.

Day two.

Primary objective: keep Naru out of base.

Success rate: 98%.

Naru rang every mobile phone in the flat—and continued to do so—until Ayako and Bou-san just switched theirs off. Lin put his on silent and allowed each call to go to voicemail. Often it was Madoka, and he'd ring her back on Skype.

Secondary objective: figure out what the hell is going on.

Success rate: -2%.

Basic research revealed that Kennel Boy liked to hijack her marathon dreams when she was 'visiting' Edinburgh, Scotland. Lin worked this out through some of the landmarks she mentioned, especially the illusive Jencks's _Landforms_—the place she'd been told was safe—which it turned out she'd been merely steps away from when Kennel Boy arrived. _Landforms_ was the name of the sculpted lawn that she'd seen in front of the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art. She wished she could feel indignant about her ironic fate, but _unlucky_ was her middle name.

Lin confirmed that Naru often visited Edinburgh, as it was a hotbed of psychic activity in the United Kingdom. Lin also mentioned that the Davis family had been in Edinburgh not seven months prior where they'd had a run in with a rather insane psychic, but as that psychic remained alive, was held locked away at a mental hospital, and was a great deal older than eight or nine years of age, Lin discounted the connection.

That dead lead left them at zero.

They could take a further point away when Gene suggested that the strong ley lines running through Edinburgh probably attributed to why Mai seemed drawn there—effectively dismissing the location all together.

That left them at negative one.

And at least one further point could be deducted because Mai had taken to jumping at every shadow, reflection and minute noise. Knowing that Kennel Boy watched their every move through her very own eyes, she feared giving voice to any ideas.

Otherwise things were fine.

Going so far as to grocery shop and buy tea-blending supplies, Bou-san and Ayako strove to make things seem like any other SPR case. Lin and Masako did not. In fact Masako hadn't bothered to return to Mai's flat at all. It wasn't like they were best friends, but Masako's avoidance didn't sit well with her.

Meanwhile Mai spent several hours in the kitchen blending teas and herbal-fruit infusions. All of them blends that she'd been making since childhood—the Sencha Earl Grey, a mint and gunpowder green tea, and a three lemon herbal. Since her focus kept drifting, she didn't dare make anything more adventurous. If she was honest, her heart wasn't really in it. She merely needed to do something since Lin refused to let her help him. It didn't make things better, what with the way he watched her as though he suspected he'd have to restrain her at any moment. Maybe he was right. It seemed like every four hours Ayako had to replace the charms that sealed Mai's kimon mark—and with every new charm, an angry heat bubbled in her gut.

Mai plucked at the charms in question. They were just about half burned through—with her mind's eye she could see the paper gradually becoming yellowed, brittle, ineffective. Ayako and Bou-san were on a reconnaissance mission—essentially trying to figure out where Naru was basing himself. He wasn't at the office. He wasn't at his flat.

That left Mai alone with a taciturn Lin. Mostly, the tall man flipped through the reams of notes he'd made while interviewing Mai. Sometimes he stared at the nearly blank whiteboard. Occasionally he spaced out in front of his computer screens. He never said a word to Mai, only watched her.

Equally as unwilling to communicate, Gene had taken to sitting in the loft and staring at his now dishevelled office. His piles of gallery pamphlets had been swept aside like a distant memory. The Watanabe Gallery fire seemed to still weigh heavy on his mind, and since Naru's arrival, he hadn't once mentioned a new exhibition—which after her last dream, she couldn't really complain about. Unfortunately Gene had taken to wearing that faraway expression that Mai disliked so much. When he did focus on reality, it was only to forlornly gaze at Lin.

'You miss him,' Mai whispered to the ghost. She'd climbed into the loft to look for a new shirt—she'd spilled bergamot oil on the one she wore. Of course the clean shirt looked as ratty and stained as the dirty one.

Gene stared fixedly at the wall. 'No. Absolutely not. I died. I'm over it.'

Mai sat on the bed beside him. 'I don't think you are over it.'

'No, Mai. You just don't _think_.' He lifted his stubborn chin and spoke forcefully—which Mai supposed she deserved. She knew better than to press Gene about personal things. 'Look,' he said, 'I don't want to be the bad guy here—but everyone is pussyfooting around the obvious. We need information—and you're the only source we have.'

Mai pressed her lips thin and nodded. Her neck corded with the effort not to snap back at him. 'What do you want me to do?'

'Whatever it is that you have to.'

Mai blinked hard against the tears Gene's harsh tone brought forth. After a long minute, she asked in a whisper: 'Why are you here, Gene?'

'I'm here because I do what I have to,' he gritted out. It was the most honest he'd ever been with her on the topic.

'Are you proud of that?' she asked, trying her best not to sound as injured as she felt.

'Proud?' He pondered the word before nodding. 'Everything balances in the end.'

Frowning down at her hands, Mai wondered aloud, 'What did I do that was so… awful?'

'I don't know.' Gene turned to face her, his expression softening. 'I don't know. I'm….' He sighed deep. 'I'm dead, but I don't know. But I… I have a theory.' Mai braced herself before nodding for him to continue. 'Have you ever considered that you're paying in advance?'

Mai's stomach churned as the memory of Kennel Boy's exhibition flashed through her mind. So many gruesome, senseless deaths. 'So you think I'm going to do something heinous, so I'm paying penance ahead of time.'

Gene shook his head and leaned toward her. 'I think you're going to have something so wonderful that you could never appreciate it fully if you didn't experience something equally as horrific beforehand.'

Was that even possible? Mai shook her head and looked away. She was the poster girl for Murphy's Law. _Wonderful_ wasn't part of her life's vocabulary.

Gene seemed to read her thoughts. 'How about my brother?' he suggested. 'If I had to guess, I'd say right about now the exceptionally wonderful Dr. Oliver Davis is prostituting himself for any information about you.'

'That's stupid,' Mai said.

'You're stupid,' Gene bantered, but Mai didn't think it was a laughing matter.

She was stupid—why would Naru compromise himself for her? She knew what Gene was suggesting—that Naru loved her—but that just wasn't possible. And it hurt too much to think it might be.

'I'm going to keep on blending the tea,' she whispered, leaving Gene to sulk or to muse or to plot as he pleased. Her heart couldn't listen anymore.

Back in the kitchen, Mai focused on blending a fresh batch of tea in the hopes that it would lend her focus and calm—or at the very least keep her awake and busy until Ayako and Bou-san returned from their expedition. She gently shook a large baking sheet on which she had roasted tiny coils of lemon peel and orange blossoms. Sharp and sweet aromas lifted into the air. She'd only need a teeny spritz of bergamot oil on the Sencha leaves—anything more would mask the taste of the tea itself. Her mom called that _false tea_. To serve false tea meant to lie to your guests.

Of course she was still lying to them. She hadn't come clean about her yakuza loans. Not about the gaki she'd chased out of the flat either. But those things didn't bear on the case at hand. If she survived this case, she'd tell them. If she didn't—well, then it didn't really matter.

Lin's computer trilled—a sound Mai had come to recognise as an incoming video call.

'This is Harvard calling! Do you read me, Tokyo?' Yasuhara's cheeky voice chirped through the flat. 'Lin-saaaaaan! Looking good.'

'Did you uncover anything?' Lin asked impatiently.

Mai set down the spray bottle of bergamot oil and gripped the counter.

'Noooooo. I'm ringing about something a little different,' he said with a nervous laugh. 'You see, Naru just contacted me—'

'You aren't to tell him anything,' Lin said.

'I know. I know. I didn't. I offered to hack into your computer and send him any relevant files—but I think my price might have been too high. I just wanted a couple dozen naked photos. I promised I'd only share them with Mai.'

'Yasu,' Mai gasped, hurrying to the dining table where Lin had the video link set up. She settled into the seat beside Lin, pulling herself in so that she didn't brush against the onmyouji. 'You absolutely can't tease him like that.'

She expected Yasuhara to respond with his usual quips, but instead the computer screen showed his face to be uncharacteristically serious. 'I didn't realise things were so bad,' he finally said. 'Mai, you look like you haven't slept in months. Sorry, but you do. No wonder Naru has his panties in a bunch.'

'Naru wears boxer-briefs,' Mai said reflexively, her face flushing.

'Really?' Yasuhara leaned into the camera. 'How'd you know that?'

'Gene told me,' she said simply.

'What else does Gene talk about?' Lin asked.

The horrid, hard edge of his voice had Mai shivering again. She shouldn't have mentioned Gene. She needed to keep her mouth shut good and tight. 'Modern art and sports, mostly. Rugby,' she whispered.

Lin raised his eyebrows and his cheek twitched—like maybe he was surprised and wanted to smile or to scream—but he just said rather calmly: 'So nothing helpful.'

'Have you had any more dreams,' Yasuhara asked, effectively breaking through a rapidly forming silence.

'I haven't tried since yesterday,' Mai explained.

'Maybe it's time to try again—after all, we're depending on you for clues,' Yasuhara said, his words echoing the sentiments Gene shared not long before.

'I agree,' Lin said.

Fingers knotting nervously, Mai protested: 'But Ayako and Bou-san aren't here.'

'Matsazuki-san gave you fresh charms before they left, yes?'

'Yes, but—'

'Then we should be fine. If you lie on the couch, I can monitor you,' Lin said.

Mai gazed at her couch, now pushed up against the wall beside the bathroom door. Her stomach sank.

'We're counting on you, Mai-chan,' Yasuhara said. 'I'll let you get on with it. Ring me when you have more information—at any time. Harvard never sleeps.'

Mai nodded vaguely. They were counting on her. _Naru_ was counting on her—even if he didn't know it. 'I'll do it,' she whispered. 'But only for an hour. You need to wake me in an hour.'

Lin handed her two Velcro straps with devices threaded onto them. 'One on each arm,' he directed. 'These will monitor your body temperature. This will monitor your heart rate.' He demonstrated how to clip a probe onto her index finger. 'I'll also be using our usual thermometers, EMF detectors, AIC, and video.'

'How come you never went to this much trouble to monitor my dreams before?' she asked, sitting down on the couch and watching Lin do a final equipment check. 'Scratch that. I probably don't want to know the answer.' She adjusted the Velcro strap on one arm. 'It's going to be strange sleeping with all this stuff.'

'You've never had difficulty falling asleep before.'

'Oh wow, Lin, you sounded just like Naru.'

Lin's mouth quirked. 'You think a lot of him, don't you?'

Mai flushed terribly and the heartbeat monitor chirped. 'I'm not _always_ thinking about him.'

'Perhaps this time you _should_ think about him. Think about how to keep him safe,' Lin said, tapping at a keyboard. Ropes and ropes of cables streamed from the back of the main CPU—like long, questing fingers—and each one stretched toward Mai.

Mai reclined on the couch and laced her fingers into the nest of charms at her neck. She breathed several calming sighs but jerked upright before her eyelids became heavy. 'Where's Buddha?'

'Excuse me?' Lin said irritably.

'The locket Bou-san gave me,' Mai said.

'It's on the dining table,' Gene said from his perch in the loft.

'The table? Thank you, Gene,' Mai said, getting up. Before she could untangle herself from the monitors, Lin handed her the little locket. 'Thank you,' she said again.

Lin made a vague sound and returned to this computer.

Feeling a little more secure, Mai leaned back again and closed her eyes. She needed to help Naru. Everyone was depending on her. She needed to keep Naru safe.

'_What are these pockmarks in the cliff face?'_

_Mai was wondering just the same. Standing in a gorge in some unknown forest, a sense of calm and vague curiosity washed her. What were the divots that scarred the pinkish-brown cliff wall? The rock was cold and rough as she pressed her hands against it. _

_Standing beside her, a young Gene did the same. She was sure this twelve or thirteen-year-old boy was Gene—Naru wouldn't be caught dead wearing a Superman t-shirt and sporting a plaid jumper tied around his waist._

'_Stone cupping,' a middle-aged man in hiking gear explained. 'The result of misdirected ley line energies—or so the story goes.'_

'_But why have people pressed coins into them?' Gene asked, picking a two pence coin from a hollow, turning it over in his hand, and then putting it back as he found it._

'_I suppose people consider it lucky,' the man said. 'Like throwing three coins in the Trevi Fountain or tossing a stone in the sea for many safe returns.'_

'_Stupidity, you mean, Martin.' Naru sat on a large fallen tree—he might as well have been sitting on a park bench with his book in hand and his back to the strange cliff face. _

'_People need hope, Noll,' he man—Martin, the twin's adoptive father—said as he drew Gene away from the wall. He gestured to a bizarre tree bedecked in wind chimes and ornaments made of half-rotten fruit. Plastic fairy dolls had been placed in a ring around the tree's roots. Mai found the scene terribly twee and at odds with the oak's almost grotesque branches that recoiled upon themselves as they reach toward the sky. 'Let's take a photograph.' _

'_You've been dragging us on these ridiculous and utterly futile goose chases since we were eight years old. Lin gets to go on proper expeditions. You treat us like we've never seen anything dangerous before,' Naru said—not quite snapping, but not quite whining either. The words seemed instead to be edged heavily in bleakness._

'_First of all, Lin is an adult. But more to the point, I know perfectly well what you boys faced at that orphanage,' Martin responded with a well-meant levity. 'And I wouldn't dream of marginalising it. But you can't measure the rest of your life against those events. And, Noll, you can't measure your self-worth by them either.'_

_Naru closed his book with a great deal of care. 'What a ridiculous notion,' he said in his quiet voice. Placing the book inside a rucksack, he moved to stand beside his brother. 'I simply meant that I don't see the point of smiling for a camera.'_

'_The preservation of memories,' Martin said. 'Now if I can just figure out how to use this new-fangled, point-and-shoot digital camera. Damnedest thing.'_

_Mai couldn't help herself. She crept closer to the boys. She'd never seen the twins stand side-by-side—in the same room, sure, but never shoulder-to-shoulder. Never when they were the same age._

_Physically they were exact copies, but that's where the comparisons ended—and sulky expressions had nothing to do with it. The difference lay in body control. Naru stood with absolute stillness. Readiness. Even his breathing seemed a conscious action. Measured. Calm and studied. Grounded despite the wintry grievances he'd shared with his father. _

_Gene fidgeted. Slouched. His eyes flitted from place to place, never once looking straight ahead—not even when Mai waved a hand in front of his face. Going by body language alone if she had to choose a potentially petulant twin, Gene would fit the bill perfectly. Nothing about him suggested that he had the stamina or the focus to be his brother's protective shield._

'_Say Blue Stilton!' Martin shouted and a flash strobed through the gorge. 'Okay now how do we see this picture?' He flipped the camera around a nearly blinded himself when the flash went off again._

_Naru sighed. It was his deep, slightly bothered but ultimately patient sigh—the one Mai'd always associated only with herself. He took the camera from his father, tapped a couple buttons and held the camera out for Martin's inspection._

'_You are a miracle,' Martin said, slapping Naru on the shoulder. 'My very own technological miracle come to shear away the woolly idiocy I've spent too many years cultivating in my dusty old library.'_

_Naru sucked in a deep, meditative breath before he shook his head and laughed. The sound made Mai's heart swell a little. _

_Beside her, Gene snorted and rolled his eyes. 'You better watch what you say to him—one of these days you'll find you've got a narcissist on your hands.'_

'_Look at this! I told you that his site has psychic value, and now we have photographic proof!' Martin cried, holding the camera triumphantly. 'You've got an orb, Gene. Right there beside you!'_

'_Yes, she's been here a while now. Very curious,' Gene said._

'_You can see me? What do I do? What do I do?' Mai whispered. She clutched the Buddha locket to her chest and dug deep for the right words. 'Don't go to Japan, Gene! Don't ever go to Japan. You die in Japan. And Naru—' She gestured desperately at his brother. 'And Naru won't ever laugh again! And then something really, really bad happens!'_

'_Well what's she saying?' Martin prompted._

'_No idea. I can't hear a thing, but she seems rather upset,' Gene said._

'_Listen to me! I'm trying to save your life! I'm trying to save Naru's life!' Mai shouted. She stomped her feet with frustration, and several of the plastic fairy dolls tumbled over like dominos._

'_Perhaps you should ask her to leave,' Martin said. 'You never know what sort of entities you'll meet in the ley lines. This one is clearly powerful and up to no good.'_

_Outraged Mai took several steps toward the man. How dare he say she was up to no good? She was trying to save the lives of his sons! Wind chimes clanged in the tree branches._

'_I want to take a few readings,' Naru said, pulling a temperature metre from his rucksack._

'_I don't think that is a good idea,' Gene said. He hurried to Naru's side and the energy shield that Mai had doubted Gene could produce flashed up, creating an impenetrable barrier between her and the Davis family._

'_Gene!' Mai shouted._

_The shield pulsed, knocking Mai backward. Rocks and roots tripped her, and she landed hard against the oak tree. Gene's shield buzzed as though someone had just jacked up the power wattage. It took no guessing to figure out whom that someone was—Naru had a biting grip on his brother's shoulder._

'_I'm trying to save you,' Mai shouted over a cacophony of electric noise. As her last ditch attempt, she added: 'I love you! I'm trying to save you from Kennel Boy!'_

_Pain lanced through the centre of her back, hooked into her bellybutton, and wrenched her back into a spiralling ether. Gene's youthful voice seemed to follow her into the darkness: 'I think she said she loves me. All the ladies love me.'_

_She landed hard on the slushy pavement, only just managing to roll out of oncoming traffic. Scrambling up onto the sidewalk, she recognised the city instantly. Edinburgh._

_She stood high on a hill, the castle rising up to her left. The rest of the city glowed with neon festival lights. On the other side of the ravine, a Ferris wheel turned beside a neo-gothic monument. Carnival rides blinked and spun, their snippets of music and sound effects rolling together into a single, warped racket._

'_I almost thought you weren't going to come.'_

_Kennel Boy sat on a bench in the nearby bus shelter._

_Mai's first reaction was to run like hell, but her foot barely moved before she remembered what she was supposed to do. She was supposed to get clues. She couldn't do that if she ran away. Of her own avail, she edged toward the bus shelter._

_The streets bustled with festivalgoers, but no one looked twice at her or at Kennel Boy. From his perch on the bench, his feet didn't even touch the icy paving stones. 'Scotch egg?' he asked, plucking something from the paper bundle that he held in his lap. It looked more like a partially poached egg—definitely not the breaded boiled egg that Gene had once described to her. 'I'm sorry, did I say _Scotch egg_? I meant to say _Scot's eye.' _He bit down hard on the eyeball, bursting the white and letting its watery insides drip down his chin._

_Mai clenched Bou-san's locket to fortify her courage. 'I want to know your name.'_

_Kennel Boy smiled, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. 'I'll tell you,' he said, beckoning her forward with a crooked finger._

_Mai stood her ground._

'_It is a secret,' he said. 'Secrets must be whispered. Come closer.' He hopped off the bench and lunged forward—stopping short as the protection charms surged and an energy shield formed between them. 'Still wearing your fake miko's charms? You haven't heeded my warning. People who do not give shall not receive.'_

'_What do you want me to give?'_

_His expression lit. 'Your blood?'_

_A fist clenched in her gut. 'Something else.'_

'_A mere lock of your hair?'_

_Again her gut protested._

'_What I truly desire is my hand punctured through your chest—' The energy shield sparked as he slammed his palm against it. 'Gripping your still beating heart.' Mai's chest contracted, her pulse stuttered. 'While I crush it between my fingers like a nest of newly born birdies.' Knees wavering, she crumbled to the sidewalk. 'While Oliver watches.'_

_Kennel Boy laughed manically, and the grip on her heart slid away—like fingers trailing down to hide between her ribcage._

'_People have told me that you're special, Mai,' Kennel Boy said, sparking the energy shield again as though he savoured the shock of power. 'But do you know what I see when I look at you? Bait. Now at the end of the day, live or dead, bait is just bait. You shouldn't fight it.' He knelt down to Mai's level. 'Who am I kidding? I love when you fight. You're just so darn _plucky_. "Oh dearest Naru, my lovey-dovey-doo, I'll protect you from the Big. Bad. Kennel Boy." And you're a liar too. You're lying to all those _good_ people. But not to Eugene—no, he's lying to you. He always was the shady twin.' Kennel Boy lifted his necklace of teeth to his mouth and laved it with his tongue. 'It's all very amusing. I could spend every waking minute watching you. Well… actually I do.'_

_Mai swallowed hard, examining the charms bunched in her hands. They were nearly finished—brittle and yellowed. Somewhere in the distant shadows of her mind, she could hear Ayako and Bou-san. They wanted her to wake up. They wanted her to come home—but what would she tell Yasu? Lin? Gene? Could she really let Gene down again?_

'_You want something from me,' Mai whispered. 'How about time?'_

_Kennel Boy paused in his caressing of the tooth chain. 'In exchange for?'_

'_One truthful answer to one question of my choice.'_

_His eyes lit and he leaned in with keen interest. 'No names.'_

_Mai nodded. She knew getting a name would never be that simple. 'And I leave when the protection charms run out.'_

_Sitting back on his heels, he lifted a tooth from his necklace and used it to scraped dirt from beneath his fingernails. 'Are you sure you remember how to leave?' he asked conversationally. 'I could always hitch a ride again.'_

'_I don't think you will.' It was a huge gamble, but she was confident none-the-less. 'I think it would hurt you just as much as it would hurt me. And Naru isn't around to witness it.'_

'_Are you sure he didn't sneak into your flat while you've been sleeping?'_

_Kennel Boy had an awful talent for sowing the seeds of doubt, but Mai wouldn't let him do it this time. If she did, she'd leave with nothing. 'He couldn't have tricked a monk and a miko and an onmyouji.'_

'_The monk and miko are away to play,' he taunted, and Mai's heart lifted with hope._

'_I've been asleep for a long time. They've come home. You are lying.' He was lying, which probably meant he couldn't see into the flat while she was asleep. She was his eyes into reality—and as revolting as it was, at least she knew. 'I want a truthful answer to a question. One question.'_

'_Ask the question, and I'll consider the trade.'_

_Mai had a million questions to ask—she needed time to pick the correct one. Standing on unsteady legs, Mai fought for balance—and nearly lost it at a particular demanded pull of Ayako's voice. She pushed back hard. She needed more time in the dream. 'I'll ask the question at the end of our time.'_

'_That's very sporting of you.' He smiled, slow and lit with a horrid inspiration. 'Shall we walk?'_

'_You're very well spoken for a child of eight,' she said, focusing completely on the boy-like entity. It wasn't easy—hordes of people had begun to fill the darkened streets. 'I didn't know that Edinburgh had festivals.'_

'_Were those questions?' he laughed._

'_Observations,' Mai said quickly. She'd need to be careful how she worded things._

'_Perhaps you'd like to take a gander. I could show you all the sights. In fact, I think that's a _charming_ way to spend our _time_ together.' He gestured down a narrow road that led toward the train station. Mai hesitated only a moment before following his lead._

_It was unlike any other street festival she'd ever seen—in fact, it seemed to be more of a carnival with fried food carts and shooting ranges and swinging gondolas and reverse bungee rides that slingshot people 60 metres into the air and let them plummet to the crowded street, their bodies exploding like overfilled rubbish bags._

_Mai gagged. Okay, maybe this wasn't like any carnival she'd been to before. _

'_Look at this one, Mai!' Kennel Boy shouted, clapping his hands and rushing toward a large stall. Huge stuffed animals hung on the back wall. 'This one is great fun!' He grabbed a small axe and hurled it at a neon-pink, fluffy bunny. The blade sunk in with a heavy _thunk_ and blood rushed from the wound._

'_But my absolute favourite is the puppet show—come quick, come quick or you'll miss the best part!' He hurried to a Punch and Judy-style booth and wriggled through a crowd of children—strategically jabbing his elbows out to slam into tiny, smiling faces. 'Watch, Mai! Watch!' he shrieked, and for the first time, he actually sounded like an eight-year-old._

_Dollhouse furniture set an elaborate stage for the puppets—a mother and a baby. The baby fussed, and the mother paced back and forth, bouncing her wee bundle and cooing. Nothing soothed the child, and as its cries increased so did the tempo and abruptness of the mother's pacing. Finally the mother could take it no longer, and she dropped the child to the floor and marched to a crib—from which she picked up another child. A silent child. The baby on the floor sobbed harder still, and the puppet booth shook with the rising decibels. The doll furniture rattled. A bookshelf levitated. The contents tumbled to the floor. And it catapulted across the stage, slamming into the mother and crushing her. The curtain dropped._

_The crowd cheered, and Kennel Boy stood amongst the riotous applause, shouting: 'Bravo! Bravo! Encore!'_

_The curtain lifted and the scene started again._

_Mai turned away and stood adrift in a sea of neon lights and demented faces. The gleeful destruction of humanity pulsed around her, against her. She knew it wasn't real—that is was all a product of Kennel Boy's sociopathic imagination—but she could still taste the unholy sweetness of death that permeated the air._

_A nearby family laughed as they bought tickets for a carousel that's ceiling sported row after row of nooses. 'It's called _The Hangman_,' Kennel Boy explained, coming to stand beside her. 'Want to have a go?' Mai shook her head vigorously, which only made Kennel Boy chortle. 'There's another carousel across the way, but I think you've seen it before,' he said, just as an equine death-scream cut through the night. The city erupted with cheers._

'_It's almost time for you to leave—do you want to eat something before you go? That stall over there serves excellent baby-on-spit.'_

'_I don't think so,' Mai whispered._

'_Are you sure you aren't hungry?'_

_Gritting her teeth, she turned to the sociopathic little boy. 'I am not hungry,' she said in her best I'm-in-charge voice._

'_Reeeealllly?' With a pair of chopsticks, Kennel Boy hefted a tangle of noodles from a takeaway container. It looked suspiciously like a takeaway container that Lin had purchased the day before._

_Kennel Boy punctured the energy shield with the chopsticks, and Mai tumbled back against a stall. Her knees let go, and she slumped on the slushy pavement. _

_Worms writhed between the utensils. _

_Mai clutched at the charms around her neck, and they crumbled to dust._

'_Time is up,' Kennel Boy said, dropping to his knees and crawling closer._

_Mai could think of only one question that mattered. 'Why are you doing this to Naru?'_

'_An eye for an eye.'_

_He took aim with a chopstick and stabbed forward. Mai never had a chance to shield her face._


	25. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

'It's just some broken blood vessels—nothing permanent,' Ayako said, switching off her torchlight. Mai blinked furiously as her pupils readjusted to the late evening light. 'Nothing worse than accidentally poking yourself in the eye. But that doesn't excuse any of this, Lin. Honestly, what were you thinking?'

'We needed information,' Mai interjected.

'Quiet, missy. I haven't even begun things with you,' Ayako seethed.

'But I'm fine. I'm fine, and I talked to Kennel Boy.'

'Did you get a name?' Gene asked from his perch in the loft.

'Did you find any more clues?' Bou-san asked, earning him a smack from Ayako.

'That doesn't excuse any of this—'

'It does if she's succeeded in making any progress,' Lin said. 'Since we've made no headway. What did he tell you, Taniyama-san?'

'An eye for an eye. I asked him why he wanted to do this to Naru, and Kennel Boy said _an eye for an eye_.'

'So we're looking for someone Naru did wrong,' Bou-san said.

'But I figured out a few things more,' she said, grabbing Ayako's hand to stop any further interruptions. 'First he can only use the kimon mark to spy on us if I'm awake. He didn't know that Ayako and Bou-san had come home. I could feel you calling me to wake up, but he didn't know.'

'You could hear us, but you didn't wake up,' Ayako growled.

'I couldn't. Don't you understand that I couldn't wake up? I had to find out _more_. I had to see it to the end—it's the only way to save Naru.'

'I'm more concerned about you. That stupid narcissist can look after himself.'

'That's the thing. I don't think he can. I think this is something _big_. Something that's been in the works for a very long time.' She glanced up at her ghostly guardian and took a deep breath before looking directly at Lin. 'He knows _Gene_. I mean, he knew Gene. Together with Naru. I think all this started while Gene was alive.'

'So whom did you and your brother piss off?' Bou-san said, talking to empty air, not realising that Gene remained upstairs.

'That doesn't seem likely, Mai,' Gene said.

'It is what my gut is telling me. You always say to go with my gut.'

'We're going to have to comprise a list of suspects,' Lin said, going to the dining table and seating himself in front of his laptop. 'Gene, you need to brainstorm. Mai, you need to relay the information. We're looking for any deceased psychic that might have developed a grudge against Naru starting any time before Gene's death.'

...

'That's suspect number seventeen. Naru sure knows how to make enemies,' Bou-san said.

'That's the way of things in academia,' Lin said. 'Especially in the field of psychic research. Funding is hard to come by, and Naru has secured more than his fair share of it—or so many of our suspects claim.'

'So now we're citing loss of funding as motive for attempted murder and torture? This is crazy,' Ayako said, plonking a plate of sandwiches down on the dining table.

'So says the pampered princess,' Bou-san said. 'Heiress to a medical fortune.'

'Like you're any better, you stupid rock star monk.'

'She thinks I'm a rock star.'

'Funding is not just about the money, right, Lin? It is about reputation.' Mai attempted to mediate the conversation. 'If these people feel like Naru has somehow stolen or destroyed their reputations, maybe they are angry enough to ruin Naru's reputation by creating a case he can't solve and that injures his former staff.'

'That just doesn't make sense, Mai. Kennel Boy doesn't want to injure you. He wants to kill you. He wants to kill you in front of Naru and then kill Naru too.' Ayako started to turn away, but she pivoted back quickly with a new idea lighting her eyes. 'Have we considered any investigations when he exorcised one haunting spirit but left another one earthbound? Separating lovers or what not?'

'Leave a case half finished? No way,' Gene said.

'That doesn't seem like something Naru would do,' Bou-san unknowingly agreed with Gene.

'But what about the Urado case? Naru was willing to leave that one unfinished,' Ayako argued.

'But we weren't investigating Urado—we were investigating the false Oliver Davis,' Mai said. 'I'm agreeing with Gene and Bou-san on this.'

'But what if he did it unknowingly? He's messed up before,' Ayako said to the result of resounded silence. Even Lin quit taking notes of their conversation.

'However unlikely it is, we can't ignore that it might be the result of an accidentally unfinished exorcism,' Lin said. 'I'll have Madoka send me copies of every case Naru and Gene investigated.'

'This isn't it,' Mai whispered. 'Kennel Boy knows Naru and Gene. We need to look at suspects closer to home.'

Gene paced away from the table. 'There are no suspects close to home, Mai.'

'What about our list? Seventeen angry psychic researchers.'

'I'll have Yasuhara look into them. If anyone is dead, we'll follow up,' Lin said. 'For now, we start concentrating on Matsuzaki-san's suggestion.'

The doorbell echoed in the foyer, and everyone exchanged nervous glances.

'It could be Masako,' Ayako said, clearly not believing her own words. 'I'll answer the door. Mai, you should eat.' She pulled the plate of sandwiches toward Mai before marching to the front door.

Concentrating on her breathing, Mai stared at Ayako's odd little sandwiches—crustless triangles of white bread filled with cucumbers and olives and pate and other oddities. _Finger sandwiches_, she called them—a name that didn't sit well with her since the dream at the Edinburgh street festival, but since none showed any signs of including fingers, toes or other human bits, Mai figured they'd be okay.

'You can't be here.' Ayako's harsh whisper echoed through the flat. 'You need to go away.'

'Stand aside.'

'You know I can't do that.'

Heart thundering, Mai drew her knees to her chest and angled her face away from the foyer. Of course she had known that it was only a matter of time before Naru figured out her new address and came looking of them. Gene, Lin and Bou-san joined Ayako to blockade the front door. She'd told Kennel Boy she had faith that her friends could keep Naru away, and she had to keep that faith.

She plucked a prawn and mayonnaise sandwich from the plate. It seemed a natural thing to do—a good way to steady her nerves and block out the heated voices from the next room. She shoved the entire triangle into her mouth and chewed mechanically.

Her teeth crunched through exoskeletons, juices squelched from squirming bodies, spindly legs flailed, wings thrashed against the roof of her mouth, her cheeks, her tongue.

Gagging, choking, Mai spewed white bread and half-chewed insects onto the table. She retched again and again as she scraped her juddering fingers across her tongue. Psychotic laughter rattled through her brain—growing more and more manic as she continued to spit out twitching bugs.

Arms clamped her from behind, and she writhed with fear. Her great, heaving sobs only sucked twiggy legs and broken wings into the back of her throat and caused her to cough.

Naru was calling her name—yelling it—but his voice drowned beneath Kennel Boy's hysterics and Mai's own panicked whimpering.

A large glass appeared in front of her, and she clutched it and greedily slurped at it—only to taste the foulest juices of rotting fish. 'Are you watching, Oliver? Are you watching?' Kennel Boy shrieked her in mind.

Vomit surged up her throat, bitter bile overtaking the juices and the bugs and washing everything down her chin, into her lap, spreading over the table. There wasn't as much liquid inside her as her body would have preferred, and she continued to dry heave. Drawing air deep into her lungs like a deluge of acid, Mai screamed over all the voices—the ones from within and out of her mind: 'Get out! Get him out! Naru, get out!'

Something hot slammed against her chest. Ayako's face loomed over her. Bou-san gripped her hard as she thrashed. Both the monk and the miko were chanting—their words snapping and sizzling and electrifying every hair on Mai's body. The sound of raw energy—like an approaching tidal wave—swamped her mind, deadened Kennel Boy's laughter, and flattened her with absolute exhaustion.

The very will to exist flushed from her body.

'_Sweet and light and at peace with the world. To invoke this we need the three herbal lemons: grass, balm and myrtle.' Her mom leaned across the teashop counter and tapped Mai playfully on the nose. 'Are you paying attention, Boo?'_

'_Yes, Mom.'_

'_What next?' she asked, surveying the vast collection of apothecary jars, each one filled with different leaves, flowers, and fruits. 'What do you need? How about hope? Now where did I put my hope?'_

_Mai knelt on her stool and stretched her little body to the far reaches of the counter, cupping her hands around a jar of finely chopped dried apples._

'_How right you are!' her mom said, measuring a scoop of the fruit and carefully folding it into her bowl of lemon herbs. 'Sweetness, light, peace and hope—'_

_Mai grabbed the jar of elderberries in one hand and the jar of slivered cinnamon in the other._

'_My baby is wise. Wise to choose wisdom and strength. Sweetness, light, peace, hope, wisdom, strength….' She blended each ingredient with tender confidence. 'But we've forgotten something. Something to bring it all together.'_

_Wide-eyed with confusion, Mai hunted through her options—strawberries, rose hips, hibiscus blossoms, peppermint leaves, orange peels, cornflower petals, chamomile, vanilla seeds, lavender and rose and heather flowers. Was it a tealeaf or oil or tiny balls of hand-rolled jasmine?_

_Her mom smiled and pulled out a bag of dried orange-coloured flakes. 'How about carrot? To promote healthy eyesight?' she laughed, her voice tinkling like a teacup gently knocking against a saucer. _

_She measured one teaspoon of the herbal-fruit blend into a tiny teapot and filled it with hot water. 'Now we wait five minutes,' she said, and she flipped over a sandglass._

_Leaning against the counter and contentedly watching fine blue sand slip from one glass bulb into the other—her mother had never looked so beautiful, so alive. The corners of her mouth curling upward, her face flushed with good health, her eyes calm and clear._

'_Our time is almost up,' she said, wisps of melancholy clinging to her words._

'_I'm not ready,' Mai said. She reached out, desperately wanting to cling to her mother's capable hands, but they danced away—already taking up the tea ceremony ballet. Saucers and cups and spoons placed perfectly for pleasure and aesthetics and practicality._

_It wasn't what Mai wanted—the formality, the distance, the platitudes reserved for customers. She'd been so strong for so long. She'd done everything she could to be a good girl. All she wanted was to hold her mother's hand. To have her mother hold hers. To feel warmth and love clasp her tightly._

_She _deserved_ it._

'_Drink your tea, Boo.'_

_The teacup clattered as Mai wrapped her shaking fingers around the bone china. She gripped the cup until her knuckles turned white with the effort._

_Her mother lunged over the counter. 'Drink it!'_

_The teacup shattered in Mai's hands. Scalding liquid slipped through her fingers, leaving her clutching a wreckage of broken china and over-steeped herbs._

'I think she's waking up!' John's twanging Kansai accent echoed in the vast darkness of Mai's mind. 'Mai-chan, can you open your eyes?'

A cool hand brushed against her face, and Mai found that she could indeed do as he asked. Blinking furiously, Mai stared up at the concerned faces of her friends: John, Gene, Ayako, Bou-san and even Lin and Masako.

A damp facecloth swiped at her face. 'Are you feeling all right?' Ayako asked as she dabbed away vomit and sweat. 'Can you tell us what happened?'

She pressed her shaking hands into the couch beneath her. 'I dreamed I was having tea with my mom,' Mai said, her voice raspy.

'Before that. When Naru was here,' Lin clarified.

Mai struggled to sit up. 'Naru is gone?'

'If I'd known I'd never have told him the address,' John admitted, and Masako hid behind her sleeve. 'I don't mean it is your fault, Hara-san! You were in the middle of explaining things to me. I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry.'

'It was only a matter of time,' Lin said. 'And we appreciate your help convincing him to leave.'

'You did?' Mai smiled weakly at her Aussie hero.

John flushed and rubbed at the back of his neck. 'It was nothing.'

'Mai, you still haven't explained,' Ayako prompted. 'What happened? One minute we're dealing with Naru and the next you're having a fit.'

'A fit?' Hadn't they seen the insects in the sandwich? Mai desperately searched out Gene's gaze, hoping at least he understood—but he just stared back at her blankly. 'There were bugs. Bugs in the sandwich.'

Ayako dabbed a little too hard at Mai's chin. 'If you don't like prawns—'

'I'm telling you! I put the prawn sandwich in my mouth and then they turned into bugs—live bugs.' She gagged at the memory.

'Strong, multi-sensory hallucinations are classic in cases of demonic possession,' John interrupted.

'Demonic?' Mai whispered.

Gene's jaw flinched.

'You think it's demonic too, Gene?'

'No, I do not,' he answered, his tone unyielding, but his expression pensive. 'This is too personal. The need for vengeance that Kennel Boy feels, that singular focus on Naru—that is something born of humanity.' He paced away for the group to stand akimbo and scowl at his private thoughts.

'Gene disagrees,' Mai said.

'As do I,' Lin nodded. 'But all the same, I feel we are better off having Father Brown here with us.'

'We need to get you cleaned up,' Ayako whispered, forcing the crowd to move back before helping Mai to her feet.

'Yes,' Masako said from behind her sleeve. 'The smell of her is quite foul.'

Ayako threw the medium a dirty look as she led Mai toward the bathroom. 'What you need is a nice long soak.'

'In holy water,' Masako sniped.

Gene looked up with great interest. 'Finally the doll-faced dummy makes a decent suggestion,' he said, but Mai shut him down quickly.

'I'm not okay with that. No offense, John.'

'None taken,' John replied with a polite smile. 'I wouldn't recommend it under the circumstances, either.'

'Well, I would,' Gene said. 'Clearly this miko lacks the ability to seal your kimon mark. What does she honestly think that a couple omamori draped around your neck can do?'

'That's unfair, Gene. They've kept me safe in my dreams. Kept Kennel Boy from touching me at all—'

'Except that he managed to poke your eye out.'

'That's ridiculous. I still have both my eyes—and that situation was entirely my fault. I let the charms run out.' Gene scoffed and a spark of rage lit off from deep inside her. 'At least Ayako and I are being productive. At least we're trying. You're just sitting around moaning. _He's not a viable suspect. Nor him. Nor him. Nor him_,' she mimicked Gene's voice. 'How are you helping? How are you working to keep me safe? Oh but that's not part of your grand plan—your _raison d'être._'

'You know nothing about my reason for existence.'

'Isn't that the truth?' she snorted. John tried to interrupt, but Mai needed to say her piece. 'I'm trying to save your brother's life. Isn't that why you're here too? Or maybe you just want me to play Tokyo tour guide for you.'

Gene clenched his fist and a light bulb shattered somewhere in the kitchen.

'That's enough,' Lin said, though to whom she wasn't sure. 'We need to stop being emotional about this—we need to focus on what's important here. We need to focus on the research.'

'Lin couldn't be more correct,' Gene seethed, marching toward the foyer. He pivoted around at the last moment. 'Try not to kill yourself before I get back,' he said, and then he walked through the door.

Stunned, Mai clung to Ayako's arm. 'He left. He said he wouldn't, but he left,' she whispered.

'Good riddance,' Masako sighed. 'The room feels lighter already. I couldn't make heads or tails of him—he's not like any entity I've ever come across.'

'He's my guardian,' Mai said helplessly.

'I don't think he is,' Masako said.

'You clearly don't know anything,' Mai snapped.

'Enough! I've had enough of this. Everyone has something they need to be doing,' Ayako said, guiding Mai toward the bathroom. She jabbed one manicured fingernail toward Masako when the medium started to protest, and that small gesture seemed to be the catalyst for great action. Everyone scattered to different areas in the flat.

'Ayako,' Mai whispered as the miko closed the bathroom door behind them.

'I don't want to hear any complaints,' she said. 'I want you cleaned up and ready to think. But first, how about a salt scrub? It'll exfoliate you and make you feel nice and fresh.'

'And purified,' Mai added. She'd been raised in the Shinto religion, and so there was no point ignoring Ayako's inference. Salt was paramount to Shinto purification and protection.

'That too,' she said, cranking open the tub's hot water faucet. Ayako harrumphed and pulled Bou-san's Buddha locket from her pocket. It now dangled from a piece of white yarn. 'Why don't you put this locket around your neck, hand me your charms, and then climb into the tub.'

'I can take a bath by myself.'

'What you can, or can't, do is beside the point.'

...

21 reams of paper. 10,500 pages of printed research. As a singular mass, it well outweighed Mai. It took Madoka five hours to sort out and email Naru and Gene's 131 case histories. Meanwhile, Lin ate through 16 ink cartridges and burned out two portable inkjet printers as he made hard copies of everything.

Six hours after the bug-sandwich incident, every surface of Mai's flat was heaped with files. They were walking on paper, sitting on paper—Bou-san was even eating taiyaki off a map.

The paste-filled, fish-shaped pastry seemed to switch, gills gasping and fins straining. Mai held a page of research close to her face, effectively blocking her line of sight. She didn't know if it was more hallucinations or just her over-active imagination, but whichever it was, it kept her on edge. Her entire body felt like a single clenched muscle.

'You should take a break and eat something, sweetheart,' Ayako said.

'No thanks.' Mai tried to lace her answer with a casual singsong tone even though she knew no one would believe it.

'I'm worried about how thin you've become,' Ayako insisted.

'Honestly, I'm not hungry.'

'Not even if you could have anything?' Ayako banged on. 'Black forest gateau?' Drenched in the blood of a Bavarian baker. 'Mishima beef?' Riddled with gangrene. 'Just plain old onigiri?' Writhing with maggots.

'No!' Mai shouted, slapping down the file she held. Shame immediately washed with heat from head to toes. 'I can't. I just can't. Please….' She gave one glance at Ayako's disappointed face before pushing the files away. 'We are wasting time with this. There's nothing here!'

'You've got to be patient,' John said.

'I'm tired of this.'

'You're just tired. And hungry,' Ayako said, but Lin's computer began to chirp and effectively stopped the miko from launching into another relentless list of foods that filled Mai with terror.

Yasuhara's voice greeted the room with his usual exuberance, but it was short lived as he announced: 'I've checked up on your list of 17 psychic researcher suspects. And while I'd estimate 80% of them would gladly break Naru's nose, 100% of them are alive.'

'What about E. Phillipe? ' Lin asked, and then he clarified for the group: 'A researcher with whom we had a run in during this past June. He doesn't fit Mai's criterion regarding Gene, but he is, if you'll excuse the terminology, _totally barking_.'

The sounds of shuffling paper crackled through the computer's speakers as Yasuhara dug through several files. 'Phillipe, Phillipe. Transferred from HMP Edinburgh to the psychiatric hospital in Carstairs after an appeal from Doctor and Professor Davis of Cambridgeshire, and according to court records, his big day will be next month. Charges include kidnapping, two accounts of assault with evil intent, and wilful fire-raising. I had difficulty chasing him up at Carstairs, and I have a note-to-self to try again in a few hours.'

'Don't bother,' Lin said. 'He survived acute smoke and chemical inhalation injuries, and he probably has not yet regained the ability to speak. Just so long as he's alive, that's all that we really need to know. My apologies, Yasuhara-san, I fear that personal curiosity prompted that line of inquiry—not common sense.'

Yasuhara made light of Lin's comment and simply asked for another avenue of inquiry. Lin advised that Yasuhara confer with Madoka while everyone in the flat continued to review the case histories. The 17 researchers were decided to be, to Mai's great disappointment, yet another dead-end.

The whole team felt it, and as more hours passed and frustration grew, files and maps and all forms of research were tossed aside with more and more force.

To all of their surprise, it was John who broke first. Slapping a folder on the floor, he stood up and announced: '_Without counsel purposes are disappointed: but in the multitude of counselors they are established._ Proverbs 15:22.'

'Would you like some tea?' Mai asked timidly.

'How can tea help the blind?' he said, scrubbing his face with his hands. 'I'm sorry, Mai-chan. Thank you for the offer, but I need to take a break. Take a walk.'

Masako closed a file. 'That is an excellent idea.'

'Again my apologies, Hara-san, but I would prefer to walk alone,' John said, pulling on his jacket. Snatching up a folder, he marched out the front door.

'That was unexpected,' Bou-san said.

'Perhaps he's right,' Ayako said. 'Perhaps we all need a break. Now, Mai, it isn't New Year's yet, but we could have osechi. I know you love datemaki.'

Eggs. Ick. Mai shook her head furiously. If it wasn't another episode like the Scot's eye that Kennel Boy had eaten with such relish, Mai knew it would be something horrifically worse—like cracking open an egg to find a foetus or a scorpion or a large and hairy spider.

Mai shivered. 'Absolutely no eggs.'


	26. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

_It began as a single rasping chest hacking in the darkness. Lying prone on filthy linoleum, grit pressed into Mai's palms, face, bare feet. The room reeked of unwashed bodies, halitosis and moulding futons._

_Saint Giles. She recognised the squalid futon room by the scent alone—and she'd probably be able to for the rest of her life. _

_And then a second pair of lungs heaved and joined the first. And then a third. Restless shifting, rustling blankets—sounds of agitation spread outward, on and on until Mai could almost imagine that the room held the entire population of Tokyo within its cinderblock-grasp._

_She sat up slowly and blinked hard. Smoke—not night blindness—darkened her vision. The coughing continued to grow._

'_Wake up. There's a fire. You need to wake up,' she said, shaking the shoulder of the nearest person. When he merely rolled himself more tightly in his blanket, she moved on to the next person and the next. 'Wake up! Wake up!'_

_No one woke up—they just continued to wheeze and choke in their sleep._

_Dull light filtered through the doorway to the far right. Beside it she knew she would find the overhead light switch and the fire alarm._

_Scrambling on knees and elbows, Mai wormed her way between the futons and sleeping people. In an odd way, her experience escaping from her burning flat made this dream feel less terrifying. If she could handle it in reality, she could handle it in a dream._

_Or at least that's what she thought until the smoke began to taunt her—billowing into her path and then lifting slightly as soon as she altered her approach. It reminded her of the smoke in the Edinburgh tenement building—the one that had grabbed her foot and dragged her bodily into the basement._

_She wasn't going to let something like that happen again. Glaring at the sea of sleeping men and women that barricaded the most direct line to the door, Mai made a choice that she'd probably never have made if she hadn't lived in the shelter._

_Mai scurried across the throng—stepping hard on shoulder and chests, crushing fingers and faces—like they were sandbags or tyres in an obstacle course. The smoke nipped at her ankles._

_Throwing herself at the wall, she slammed her hands against the light switches. Overhead lights clunked and blinked to life. Mai twisted around to pull the fire alarm._

_But the smoke was gone._

_People continued to sleep, undisturbed._

'_Is there a problem?' asked a familiar and exceptionally annoyed voice. In the doorway the dower matron stood clutching her futon-allotment clipboard, her starchy grey uniform not yet soiled with vomit._

_Mai shook her head and eased into the hallway. The matron reached into the room and flipped the lights off._

_The smoke watched her._

'_I thought you'd found somewhere else to go—Taniyama,' the woman said, and Mai jolted with surprise. She couldn't remember the matron ever calling her by name. 'The hopeless always come back.'_

_Carefully placing one foot behind the other, Mai back down the hallway. She spread her arms wide and used the walls as support. The matron watched her but did not advance._

_The wall to her left disappeared, and Mai flinched before she realised she'd merely come to an open door. The door to Father Endo's office._

_He sat before an easel in the centre of the room, his back to her, his canvas nothing but black._

'I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to wake up her.'

'She needs her rest. You'll simply have to wait.'

'I'm awake,' Mai said, her whole body aching as she sat up on the couch. Paper crackled. 'Did I fall asleep on an important file?' she asked, pulling a stack of papers from beneath her hip and handing them to Ayako.

'Actually, I'd like to speak with Gene,' John said, tugging off his scarf and shrugging out of his winter coat. As he moved to set them on a chair, Ayako huffed, grabbed them away, and headed to the foyer to hang them up.

Thinking that Ayako had become quite the little homemaker in Mai's flat, Mai yawned and stretched. How long had she been asleep? The clock in the kitchen claimed it was nearing two—and by the light filtering in through the windows, Mai judged it to be the afternoon. The date, however, was lost to her. 'Gene?'

'Yes. Would you mind aiding us in a conference?' John asked.

Wobbling to the centre of the living room, she strained this way and that to locate her ghostly companion. It wasn't an easy task, considering the growing columns of research. Surrounded on three sides by towers of books and folders, Lin had never looked so harried. His hair stuck up on one side and dark circles ringed his eyes. His typically starched dress shirt was limp, the cuffs shoved up around his elbows, and the collar unbuttoned to show his undershirt. Mai got the distinct impression that even she'd gotten more sleep than the onmyouji during the past few days.

They all looked worse for wear, although everyone else seemed to have been sleeping on rotation in the spare bed upstairs. However the one person who no longer needed any sleep was conspicuously missing.

'Masako, did Gene come back yet?' she asked, to which she received silence and a smug expression. Making a large production of shuffling files, Masako ignored Mai with all the drama of a world-renowned celebrity. Typical. She simply couldn't admit that maybe in this case Mai was the better medium. 'I'll take that as a _no_.'

'So he still hasn't returned?' John clarified. 'Can you call him?'

'If he were a pet, you better believe I'd have him better trained,' Mai said. 'He'll come back when he feels like it.'

'Does he leave you often?'

'Not really. If he needs to go out somewhere, I usually go with him. It's rough for him, not being corporeal and all, so we stick together pretty much.'

'I thought that was his job,' Ayako said.

'I guess. I mean, I know there's definitely more to why he hasn't passed on—but it is personal, and I don't like to pester him about it.' Plus he outright refuses to talk about it, she grumpily added to herself. Ayako, though, didn't need to know every aspect of Gene's petulant nature. If she did, she'd probably start suspecting Gene of nefarious acts—and the last thing Mai needed was suspicion cast amongst friends.

'It isn't good to keep an earthbound spirit around. You've seen first-hand what can happen, Mai. Have you considered that maybe Gene is part of the problem?' Ayako said.

'You mean with Kennel Boy? No. Absolutely not. He has tried to stop Kennel Boy right from the start—there's no connection between them.'

'Except that Kennel Boy knows Gene.'

Frustrated Mai marched into the kitchen, but the miko just trailed behind her.

Ayako had been making something with vegetables, leacing slivers of cucumber and carrots mounded on the counter. Nothing about her flat felt like her own anymore. The food, the furniture, the files, the maps, the computers—she'd been completely invaded by SPR.

And now they were trying to take away her guardian. Was nothing sacred? Mai did the only thing that felt natural—she put on the kettle—and then she said in her calmest voice: 'Gene is trying to save Naru's life. He's trying to stop Kennel Boy—'

'What about you, Mai?' Ayako asked, draping a cluster of new charms around Mai's neck. 'Isn't that what you two quarrelled about earlier? Is Gene trying to help _you_?'

'Helping Naru _is_ helping me!'

Ayako grabbed Mai's face and forced her to hold eye contact. 'You have confused Naru's wellbeing with your own. And I want to be very clear on something, Mai—if the choice comes down to Naru or you, Naru is shit out of luck.'

'Ayako….'

'She's right, jou-chan.'

'Yes,' John said. 'And Naru agrees. That is, I'm sure Naru agrees.'

'_Well I don't!_' Mai said, wrenching out of Ayako's grasp.

'With that kind of attitude, Kennel Boy has already won,' Lin said in a world-weary voice—his words froze Mai where she stood. 'It is paramount that we never get to the stage when a choice between the two of you must be made. You cannot even entertain such an idea. I am certain both Naru and Gene would concur with me. Regarding your questions, Father Brown, I suggest you ask them of me—at least until Gene returns.'

'No no no,' John said, laughing and waving his hands in his usual, charmingly nervous manner. 'It can wait. Nothing important.'

Lin gave John an odd look but said no more. Instead he scrubbed at his eyes before turning his attention to Mai: 'Did you have another dream?'

'Nothing relevant,' Mai said, causing Lin to frown and pinch the bridge of his nose.

The kettle whistled, effectively unlocking Mai's muscles, and the wave of upset within the flat seemed to smooth into a tentative stillness. With one hand Mai reached blindly for the newly blended canister of Sencha Earl Grey as she prepped the teapot for brewing—and she instead came up with the three lemon herbal blend.

She started to put it back but then thought better of it. She grabbed a handful of shredded carrots from the counter and crammed them into the teapot. Careful not to look at the ingredients for too long lest her imagination—or any other evil entity lingering inside her mind—get the best of her, she heaped the herbal blend into the teapot as well before adding the freshly boiled water.

'I'm not drinking that,' Masako said, sniffing.

'I never offered it to you,' Mai said.

'Please don't,' she huffed before turning to Lin: 'I've reviewed these reports and followed up with the clients—one show signs of an incomplete exorcism. And this housekeeper says things only got worse after the investigation, however, the actual clients...' Masako continued to brief a blurry-eyed Lin, drawing both Bou-san and John's attention.

Ayako remained in the kitchen, fiddling with the chopped vegetables and watching Mai sidelong. At a loss for conversation, Mai focused all her attention on laying a perfect setting of teacups, saucers and spoons. Concentrating on the mechanical movements was much easier than addressing what Ayako had said earlier—that she'd choose Mai over Naru.

It should have warmed her heart, but instead her chest felt overrun with slush and ice. To choose Mai over Naru—it wasn't right. It just wasn't right. Even with his narcissistic attitude, Naru was worth infinitely more than Mai.

Naru was the most important thing.

Absolutely the most important thing—and knowing that put Mai's nerves at ease, and she was able to pour the herbal infusion from teapot to teacups without so much as a drop spilled.

Good manners said that Mai needed to serve her guests first, and so she quietly placed a teacup in front of each person—even Masako—before returning to the kitchen to sip her own infusion.

It tasted of sweetness, light, peace, hope, wisdom, and strength—and maybe even of good eyesight too.

'I'm going to take a nap,' Mai said, setting aside her emptied cup.

'But you just woke up,' Ayako said.

'I need my sleep,' Mai said and then she ascended the stairs to the loft and promptly tucked herself into bed.

_Dark red liquid spilled from an overturned frosted glass jar, and where it had coagulated, splotches of black stained the cement floor._

_Formless and hovering above the scene, Mai's vision remained fixed on the mess—like a close-cropped, still frame in a movie. Slowly she panned back, lifting further into the ceiling._

_Kiki's naked body slumped off the grotty futon—her neck slit wide and her ribcage exposed. It was a silent, solemn image. Someone had taken a great deal of time and expertise to set the room. Professional photography lamps and reflector panels warmed the scene with soft light and cast lush grey shadows that hugged Kiki's body. Her palms were bared to the skies, and her fingers draped with all the grace of a ballerina. Blood spread up from the neck wound and darkened her hair before swathing the floor. Plastic jars filled with dark red liquid sat vigil._

_In death Kiki had become the artless model that she'd dreamed of becoming in life._

_It started with a click and a clatter and a swishing slap—like a film having finished its reel. The still scene lurched into motion—backwards motion._

_On the cement floor, the wash of blood rolled back like time-lapsed frames of a retreating tide. A door opened at the far end of the room, and a man entered, shut the door behind him, and walked backwards into the room. Beneath his arm he carried a camera. As he reached the tripod, he turned to affix the camera atop._

_His face was a total blur._

_Even without the benefit of a body, Mai's heart lurched. It had been a month—more even—since she'd been alone in the kennel room with Blur Face, but she could still feel his hands on her breasts, breathing on her neck, grinding against her from behind._

_She didn't want to see what he'd done to Kiki. Mai tried her best not to watch, but in her ethereal form, she could not move and could not close her eyes. She watched him photograph Kiki—playing with the light fixtures, adjusting her head and limbs, accidentally knocking against the jar and thereby righting it as he tiptoeing around the blood spatter._

_And then he left momentarily before returning with a milk crate. He immediately sat beside Kiki and opened a box. Watching it in reverse, it seemed as though he gathered the jars and one by one poured their liquid into Kiki's exposed chest cavity. And then he took a bloody rib from the crate and snapped it into place. With a black-bladed knife, he traced over her wounds and her flesh knit together._

_And then Kiki twitched. Just her fingers._

_Blur Face gathered her wrists and placed the knife in her palms. He raised her weapon-clenching hands to the gash at her throat. Spray from throughout the room drew back inside Kiki as the man helped her run the blade across her own neck._

_Kiki gasped, screamed, and her eyes flashed open—and stared directly into Mai's._

_The vision clunked—like the film reel had again come to the end of its feed—and the vision jerked into forward motion._

_Kiki clenched her eyes shut and screamed: 'I repent!'_

_Whatever force kept Mai hovering above the scene yanked her through the ceiling and then released her to collapse onto a tiled floor. Pulling herself upright, Mai stared at an enlarged photograph of Kiki's death that had been transferred onto a canvas and enhanced with deep russet staining._


	27. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

'Kiki!' Throwing the duvet to the side, Mai scrambled out of bed and tumbled to the floor.

'Mai, what's wrong?' Ayako asked, rushing in from the other side of the loft. Equally as fast, John and Bou-san sprinted up the stairs.

'He's going to kill Kiki!'

'Kennel Boy?' John asked.

'No. Blur Face,' Mai said, pushing past everyone on her way down the stairs. Desperately hunting for her jacket and shoes amongst the maps and files, she explained: 'Blur Face is going to kill Kiki. We need to find her. We need to find her right away.'

Spotting her jacket on a hook in the foyer, Mai rushed forward and tripped over several extension cords.

Bou-san caught her and held her still. 'You need to calm down, Mai.'

Shaking her head furiously, Mai managed to partially pull out of his grasp. 'We have to hurry,' she said to him, and then she turned her pleading gaze toward John. John had to understand. 'He's going to kill her. We have to go.'

'You haven't told us where,' Ayako pointed out, though at least she had started to gather people's jackets together.

Mai stilled, staring up into Bou-san's perplexed face. _Where?_ She didn't know _where_. 'Gin Knockers.'

'He'll kill her at Gin Knockers?' Bou-san clarified.

'No. No, but I'm sure that's where we'll find her. Him. I'm sure of it.' She nodded fiercely, and Bou-san released her arms. 'I'm absolutely sure of it. We have to go.'

Ayako passed Mai her leather jacket, and Mai could have kissed the miko with gratitude. She spotted Lin stretched out on the couch, his laptop fallen to the side, his hands-free earpiece had tangled in his hair, and several files spilled open on his chest.

'Lin!' Mai said, shaking his shoulder. 'Wake up!'

The onmyouji jerked awake. Terribly flushed, he grabbed at the earpiece stuck in his hair. 'I'm listening, Madoka,' he said reflexively before realising that it had been Mai that woke him.

'It's okay, but we have to go now,' she said, yanking the folders from his hands. 'I had a dream about Blur Face. Please, Lin. Hurry.'

'Blur face? No, Mai. We need to stay focused on Kennel Boy. We have to concentrate on the case histories,' he said, sitting up with great effort. 'Masako has uncovered some leads. Yasuhara will be checking in soon, and I need to ring Madoka.'

'He's going to kill Kiki—you don't know what he'll….' Mai brushed trembling hands down her body, like she could whisk away the lingering feelings of violation. 'He does awful things. You can't understand what it feels like…. I can't let him do that to her too. I can't let him do any of it to her.'

'Mai?' Bou-san tried to smooth his hand over her hair, but she flinched away. Hurt flashed across his face, but it quickly turned to concern and then to anger.

The anger helped. Mai latched onto it, feeding off the energy. She clenched her hands to still them before snatching Lin's laptop away and passing it to John. 'We're going now.'

Bou-san jangled car keys in his pocket. 'I'll drive.'

Mai glared down at the onmyouji. She did trust Ayako, Bou-san and John, but deep in her gut she knew that they needed Lin with them. They needed his calm, his strength—his ability to knit together signs and clues. 'You have to come with us,' she said in her hardest voice. 'The answer isn't in the research. This is our only chance. This killer is a known collaborator with Kennel Boy. If we can stop him, we can find out who Kennel Boy really is.' In a last-ditch attempt, Mai wrapped her hands around Lin's bicep and pulled with all her might. 'And we can save Kiki, too. Naru would save Kiki.'

'I'll stay,' Masako said. 'I'll stay here to field calls. They are my leads, after all. I'm the best choice to stay—especially if Mai's annoying little ghost-pet comes crawling back. Go, Lin-san.'

Lin was already standing, dislodging Mai's hands, and reaching for his jacket.

...

'What do you mean, she's not here?' Mai shouted, grabbing Aoi by the collar of her black shirt. Aoi held her cigarette overhead so as not to burn Mai, and she calmly moved out of Mai's grasp.

Crowded around them, the other SPR members groaned and continued to pant from their mad dash from the parking garage all the way to Gin Knockers' backdoor.

Aoi blew smoke out of the side of her mouth. Lifting one knee-high boot-clad leg, she stubbed the cigarette out on the sole before flicking the butt into the alleyway. 'What do you think I mean, kiddo? I haven't seen her in week. And she's not the only one.'

'Other people have disappeared too?' Mai gasped. Were other hostesses going missing? Barmaids? Was Mignon okay? Terror frazzled through her nervous system.

Aoi rolled her eyes and then smacked Mai upside the head. 'Where the hell have you been? You rush off to the hospital claiming that you killed some guy, and then we don't hear from you for _four days?_ Four days! You've got Mignon so worried she's become a total fucking waste of space.'

'There is no need for that sort of language,' Ayako said. 'We have been looking after Mai.'

'And you have been doing a fine job of it, I can already tell,' she sneered, mimicking Ayako's upright manner and crisp pronunciation.

'_Aoi-san_,' Mai whispered, shooting an apologetic glance to the SPR group.

'Suddenly you're aligning yourself with these strangers? Who has been looking out for you since you started working here?' she retorted, hands on hips. When Mai's guilt expression turned to her, Aoi ruffled her hair and sighed. 'Kiddo, you look like death. Are these people even feeding you? What have I told you time and again?'

Mai blinked up into the streetlamp as she mentally flipped back through all the things Aoi regularly told her. 'Life's a bitch so fuck her?'

Bou-san choked on a laugh before saying: '_Language_, jou-chan.'

'What are you, her father?' Aoi scoffed.

Bou-san settled his hands on Mai's shoulders. 'Good as.'

Sucking in her cheeks, Aoi gave a sarcastic nod. 'Riiiggghhhtttt. This washed up old hippy is _not_ what I meant. Let's try that again. Mai, what have I been telling you that you need to _find_?'

'A prince, knight or well-hung stable boy,' she recited as though it were from a primer.

'Oh, dear,' John said, and when Mai glanced his way, she could tell that he was terribly flushed.

Aoi looked John up and down, and she winked. 'This stable boy is cute, but your knight has been lurking around the club since the day you disappeared.'

'Naru?'

'Mr. Too-Handsome-For-His-Own-Good. In fact I saw him not ten minutes ago.'

'We need to leave,' Mai said, turning and knocking into Bou-san.

'What about Kiki-san?' John asked.

'Do you know where we can find this Kiki-person,' Bou-san asked Aoi.

'If I did, I wouldn't be watching Fujiwara like a fucking hawk. He's going to poach one of my girls again—I can just feel it,' she seethed, lighting up another cigarette. 'And I'm reasonably sure Fujiwara has a client that's interested in _you, Mai_. That skeevy priest that's always got is dick in a knot.' She gestured vaguely to Mai as if to say _you know which skeevy priest I mean._ 'He's been even creepier since Kiki disappeared.'

Gnawing at her lip, Mai tried and failed to come up with a visual of Aoi's 'skeevy priest'.

Aoi jabbed Mai in the arm like she could prod a recollection. 'Kiki was forever hiding in the kitchen from him.'

'Him. I never actually saw him,' Mai said, thinking back to that night in the kitchen when Kiki had first told Mai about the _demon flat_. 'I just thought that guy was into some sick father-daughter cosplay sex game.'

'_Hedio._' Bou-san's his hands tightening on Mai's shoulders again. 'How do you know this pervert is interested in Mai?'

Aoi's eyebrow twitched at Bou-san's tone, but in the end she gave into Mai's pleading expression. 'As it happens, Ouji-san overheard something. I don't know anything else for sure—just what my gut tells me.' Aoi reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a thick envelope. 'In light of what he overheard, Ouji-san wanted me to pass on a message to you, kiddo.' She shoved the envelope into Mai's chest, causing her to stumble back against Bou-san.

Taking the envelope reluctantly, she glanced inside. '_Captain-san?_' she whispered, thumbing through a stack of 10,000 Yen notes.

'On behalf of Ouji-san—also known as _Captain-san_—and Gin Knockers, you are hereby fired,' Aoi said. 'Congratulations.'

'… but—'

'And as to that unfortunate matter with your monthly visitors, Ouji-san has taken care of that as well. He only asks that you give him a ring when you are safely settled.'

'But—'

'His business card is inside,' she said, taking a final drag off her cigarette. She tossed the butt into the darkness and kicked the wedge out from beneath the door. 'You'll find my card is in there too. Give me a ring when you've bought yourself a mobile that actually works,' she said and then she closed the door behind her, leaving Mai and the gang to stand beneath the fluxing streetlamp.

'Did she just give you money?' Ayako asked.

'A lot of money,' Bou-san said.

'She's actually a very nice person,' Mai said, turning slowly and walking back toward the street. Overwhelmed and positively numb, she could barely process what had just happened. She'd been fired. She'd been fired, and Captain-san had paid off her yakuza debts.

Ayako reached for the envelope. '_The money_—'

Mai clutched the envelope and jerked away. 'I'm going to give it back. After all this is over, I'm going to give it back to Captain-san.'

'I just thought perhaps we should put it inside my purse, instead of showing it off to everyone on the street,' Ayako said.

At the edge of the sidewalk, Mai froze with embarrassment, and then she shoved the money toward Ayako. 'Sorry,' she whispered and then turned toward the front entrance to Gin Knockers.

'What about Kiki-san?' John asked.

Mai eyed the winding queue and Fujiwara's security guards. Was it really worth going inside if Aoi said Kiki wasn't there? Had she led them all on another wild goose chase? Passing her trembling hands through her hair, Mai whispered: 'I don't know.'

Giving her a side-hug, Bou-san tried to bolster the group. 'We may not have found Kiki-san and Blur Face, and Mai may have been sacked, but at least we managed to avert Mai's potential molestation by a "skeevy priest"—no offense, John.'

'That skeevy priest?' Ayako asked, pointing to a man wearing a clerical collar. A hat shadowed his face. His open trench coat billowed around him has he hurried a scantily dressed girl out into the street. She wore a dress the size and weight of a single sheet of single-ply toilet paper. Classic Fujiwara hostess attire. Mai didn't recognise the girl, but….

'That looks like Father Endo,' Ayako said. 'A priest that helped during the accident,' she added for John's benefit. 'Though he was considerably less helpful at the hospital.'

Squinting at the retreating figures, Mai could just barely make out Father Endo's fishy face. 'Did I ever mention that he works at Saint Giles Homeless Shelter? That's… um… that's where I stayed after the fire at my building,' she admitted and quickly deferred questions by adding: 'I've never seen that hostess before, though—not at Gin Knockers and not at the shelter.'

'I don't want to cause undue alarm, but…' John too stared after the retreating figures. 'I've never heard of a Father Endo—and I know all the clergy in Tokyo.'

'He's new—I mean, he recently returned from abroad,' Mai recalled.

'How recently?' Bou-san asked while Lin asked: 'Abroad where?'

'I don't know,' Mai whispered.

'Think we should follow him,' Ayako said.

'I agree,' Mai said.

They moved en masse as they trailed Father Endo and the hostess. It wasn't exactly the most discrete recon job but that could hardly be helped in the neon-lit streets. They became even more conspicuous when they joined the taxi queue. Only two couples separated Endo from the SPR team.

Huddled together, the team tried to look _normal_. Lin glowered at Father Endo, Ayako spent five minutes putting lipstick on and watching Endo in her compact's mirror, John snuck glances at him from over his bible, and Bou-san just stood there whistling. And all the while Mai was hidden at the centre of their little freak show.

'It would be faster taking the subway,' Mai whispered.

'I don't take the subway,' Ayako sniffed, and Lin pointed out that they didn't know where Endo was taking the hostess.

'To Saint Giles, I'm sure,' Mai reasoned.

'You were sure Kiki-san would be at Gin Knockers too,' Lin countered.

Poor Kiki. The more Mai stood between the warm bodies of her friends, the more Mai was sure that they'd be too late to save Kiki. She'd failed her. Just like she failed at everything.

'What are you idiots doing?' Naru's voice was cold and calm and _loud_.

Mai groaned and leaned her forehead against Bou-san's arm.

'Is _she_ here?' Naru asked, and the team gathered tighter and crushed against Mai.

'Find your own hiding spot,' she said, voice muffled by Ayako's overly large handbag.

'What are you doing here?' Lin demanded.

'The same thing as you, I suspect—but I most definitely am doing it with a great deal more finesse.'

'Or you were until you came over here,' Mai grumbled. 'Go away.'

A car door slammed. 'They're getting into a taxi,' John said.

'And so are we,' Naru said, which was promptly followed by outraged voices as their entire group jumped the queue and rushed the next taxi—a minivan, as luck would have it.

They crammed Mai in first, forcing her to the very back seat, before piling in. Pulling herself as small as possible, Mai searched out the black-clad narcissist. She didn't want to accidentally brush against him. Kennel Boy's awareness already bubbled inside her.

To the driver's very vocal dismay, Naru sat up front in the passenger seat. Ayako thrust a wad of money—Mai hoped not _Captain-san's _money—at the driver as Bou-san slammed the van door and shouted: 'Follow that taxi!'

'Which taxi?' the driver said dryly.

They were stopped in the midst of a sea of taxis.

'Saint Giles,' Mai shouted. 'Take us to Saint Giles Homeless Shelter.'

Lin tried to protest, but Naru effectively cut him off. 'Saint Giles. As fast as you can manage without killing anyone. I am at my wits' end with transportation-related accidents.'

Naru at his wits' end? It was almost laughable—except that there was nothing funny about the dark look he shot Mai from across the van. Heart hammering in her chest, Mai clutched at the seat in front of her.

Ayako turned around. 'You okay, sweetheart?'

Mai nodded stiffly.

'Why don't you put these on anyway,' she said, pulling five new charms from her jacket pocket.

'All at once?' Mai asked doubtfully.

'Better safe than sorry, right?'

Glancing at Naru, Mai crammed the charms over her neck. Her flesh seemed to crawl in reaction—like Kennel Boy furiously pressing at her from beneath her skin.

'If this doesn't work, it might have to be the holy water,' Mai said through gritted teeth.

'Do you still have the Buddha?' Bou-san asked.

Mai clenched the locket in one hand and lifted it up to show him.

'Why don't you wear this as well,' John said, taking a chain from around his neck. From it hung two coin-sized metals. 'St. Charles and St. Christopher. May they look after you and keep you safe.'

Thinking Gene would be very happy, Mai graciously took the chain and added it to the growing weight around her neck. Her entire body convulsed once before going still. Gene would be very happy.

She wished he were there. He'd never liked Father Endo, but he'd never counted him as dangerous—maybe she was leading everyone astray again. Maybe this was all a trap. A trick to get Mai and Naru in the same room once more.

It didn't even matter how they'd all come to this point. The only thing that truly mattered was the horrible sinking feeling in Mai's gut. The feeling that unmistakeably told her that things were about to get a lot worse. A whole lot worse.


	28. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

When the taxi pulled up outside of Saint Giles, the street was completely empty—no sign of Father Endo's taxi.

'We've lost him,' Ayako said. 'Let's just get Bou-san's car and head back to the flat.'

'No,' Mai said. 'He's here. I know he's here. And I need to find Kiki.'

'Mai, we don't even know for sure if Father Endo is this man you've been seeing in your dreams,' Bou-san said.

'Are you getting out or not?' the taxi driver asked.

'Out,' Mai and Naru said at the same time Bou-san and Ayako said, 'Drive on.'

Ultimately Lin made the final decision by opening the door, jumping out and standing aside as John joined him on the pavement.

'I'd like to make some enquiries inside,' John said. 'If that's okay with everyone?'

'I would as well,' Lin said as he and John went into the shelter.

Ayako and Bou-san had a long, silent conversation before letting Mai out of the taxi—and even when they had, they still used their bodies as a barrier between Mai and Naru.

'Should we ask the driver to wait?' Ayako asked.

'Too late,' Mai said as the taxi pulled away from the curb. She shivered, her breath turning to white haze that floated off into the night.

Bou-san attempted to zip Mai's jacket to her chin. The charms tangled in the zipper, and he settled for flipping her collar up. 'Let's get you inside. We can search the shelter while John and Lin make their enquires.'

Thinking of the interview rooms and the stern matron, Mai shook her head. She doubted they'd even get past the front corridor. Plus where could they look? Kiki or that other hostess wouldn't be killed in the front offices or the futon room or the clothing donation room or the canteen or the showers. She knew there were other places—for storage and laundry—but nothing felt accurate.

'Where do you suggest?' Naru asked, his voice clinical—like he were asking for temperature reading or room measurements.

A deep shadow to the right of the building caught her eye. It was the side alley—a narrow path, really—that was kept gated and locked. 'Gene said there's a cemetery,' she whispered.

Bou-san and Ayako quit whispering to each other as Naru asked, 'Gene is here?'

Looking away sheepishly, Mai crossed her arms and capped her elbows with her palms. 'No. But a long time ago he said that he found a cemetery behind the shelter. I'm sorry,' she laughed nervously. 'I don't know why I just thought of that.'

'Is it through that passage?' Naru asked, pointing to the narrow alley.

'I don't know,' she whispered, moving slowly down the sidewalk to stand in front of the wrought iron gate. Six feet tall, unadorned and lacking footholds, scaling it was not an option. 'I never checked it out. It didn't seem important. The gate is always closed.' She ran her fingers across the lock and nudged the drooping handle. Cold stung her palms as she wrapped them around the iron rods and pushed.

It did not budge.

'Maybe they have the keys inside,' Bou-san said, and he bounded toward the shelter's entrance.

A pale hand gripped the iron handle and forced it into place. A rusty scream of metal against metal gave way to an echoing _thunk_. Mai's hands released their hold, and she shrunk to the side. The gate swung into the shadows beyond.

'Stand aside, Mai.' Taking great care not to brush against her, Naru stepped forward and into the alleyway. The gate began to slowly close behind him.

Mai stepped up to follow, but Ayako grabbed her wrist and held her back.

Mai pitched her voice low with warning. 'Let go.'

'You need to wait,' Ayako insisted.

'Naru can't go in there alone,' Mai said, pulling free and catching the gate before it shut completely. Opening the gate again, she took three confident strides into the alley before faltering and turning around. Ayako still stood on the sidewalk, gazing with frustration toward the shelter's front entrance. The gate was swinging closed again—like it was weighted not to stay ajar—and Mai lunged to stop it from shutting completely.

Her hand grasped air, and the gate clicked into place.

Startled, Ayako jerked back to Mai and grasped the handle. 'It won't open,' Ayako said. 'Try from your side.'

Mai trailed her hands down the pitted panel of iron where there had once been a doorknob. 'It doesn't open from this side,' Mai whispered.

'Don't be ridiculous,' Ayako said, wrenching on her side of the gate. 'Open up.'

Mai stared over her shoulder into the alley. The thick shadows had long ago consumed Naru. 'Go help Bou-san get the keys.'

'I'm not leaving you here.'

'I'll be okay. Just go get the keys.' Mai shoved her fingers between the iron bars and gripped Ayako's hand. 'We need help.'

Ayako nodded soberly. 'Don't move. Not a muscle,' she said, pulling away and hurrying down the sidewalk—the echoes of her high-heeled shoes clacking loudly in her wake.

Mai drew a deep, steadying breath and faced the alley. Naru was at the other end. He was alone. _Alone_. The word seemed to rattle around inside her.

Hands held out at her sides, fingers trailing along the damp walls of the narrow alleyway, Mai walked into the darkness with a slow, decisive gait. Naru was _alone_. _Alone_ on the other side of the blackness.

Her leg caught on something. Flinching back, she balled her fists, lifted her foot, and stepped high over whatever blocked her path. At the far end of the alley, hazy orange light cut an exit. Mai stumbled her final steps before rushing into the space beyond.

Crammed with stone monuments, the tiny cemetery felt more like a packed cattle car than a place of reverence, reflection and remembrance. The orange hue came from the city lights refracting through oppressively low clouds and claw-like fog. The gnarled limbs of a lifeless tree grappled over the cemetery wall from the adjacent lot. It stretched above the graves to tap a single branch against Saint Giles' back wall.

Mai rounded the closest monument. Naru crouched at the centre of the cemetery. A single paving stone had been lifted and shifted to expose a large gash in the granite walkway.

'Naru?' Mai whispered.

Without looking up, he lifted a finger to his lips. _Quiet._

Mai edged forward.

Still with his gaze fixed deep in the hole, he lifted his hand with his palm facing her. _Stop_.

Mai couldn't stop. She had to know. She had to see. She had to—

Inside the hole was a crate, a box and frosted glass jars with chequered lids. Mai stumbled back a few steps. 'Kiki,' she whispered. 'We're too late. I'm sorry, we're too late.' She wiped her face with the back of her hand. 'We need to find him. We need to find Blur Face.'

'Blur Face.' Naru stood and brushed dirt from his trousers.

Staring at the man she was supposed to save—the man she was supposed to keep safe with lack of knowledge—the man that was the very antithesis of ignorance, Mai very nearly broke and told him everything.

But he already knew.

She could see it in the keenness of his eyes. In the resolute set of his mouth. In the stiffness of his shoulders. In the way he had kept his distance from her. Had watched her like he knew all the signs. In the steadiness of his breathing despite the ticking clench of his jaw.

'John told you.'

'Only what he knows, Mai. It isn't enough to solve the case.'

'_Case._ Do you….' All the moisture wicked from her throat, and her voice broke. 'Do you understand?'

'I understand that you always do what you think is right,' he said. 'I also understand that your judgement of _right_ is not always sound.'

'He wants to hurt you.'

'_It_—'

_Thunk._ Something fell and clattered deep within the walls of Saint Giles. Harsh white light streamed from beneath a door that was half-concealed by a line of rusting trash barrels.

Naru and Mai moved together, approaching the door with cautious, silent steps. Naru held an arm out, barring her from getting any closer. Pressing himself against the wall, he eased the door open a couple centimetres and gazed in sidelong. Mai held her breath and prayed that Naru would not get caught.

A scream rented the air. Mai flinched and edged back. She knew that scream. She'd screamed that scream. She'd—

Her foot caught on a trash barrel, sending her crashing to the ground with the container atop her.

Inside the screaming was replaced by heavy footfall. Naru jerked away from the door and reached out to grab Mai.

She shirked away automatically, bringing down another barrel with the movement.

The door burst open. 'Come for the show?' Father Endo asked, and he grabbed for the back of Naru's jacket. Naru threw an elbow at Endo's face, hitting him cleanly, but the priest had the upper hand with his sheer size and his eerie agility, and he tossed Naru to the side with little more than a grunt.

Naru hit a grave marker. A _crack_ like a gunshot cut through the night as his head met marble.

Turning back to her, Endo said, 'Hello, Mai.' She scurried backward, but the bins kept her from going far.

Endo ringed her wrists with no trouble and yanked her to her feet. 'I've been waiting for you.'

Endo and Blur Face's voices were one and the same. The realisation seemed to crunch rather than click inside her brain—the weight of her situation pounded her with a thick, metal fist.

'No, no, no,' she pleaded. Horrified with her own uselessness, she tried to stem her whimpers, but they only came faster as Endo dragged her into the basement room. Professional photography equipment ringed the blood-stained mattress on which the young hostess cowered.

Endo paused long enough to slide the deadbolt into place on the basement door before he dragged her forward. Mai's feet scrambled against the dirty cement floor, thinking that Endo would throw her onto the futon as well, but he yanked her backward and breathed into her ear, 'You need to wait your turn. Why don't you keep Kiki company?'

Surrounded by boxes and books and stacks of canvases, the kennel sat in the deepest recesses of the room.

Endo subdued Mai's flailing form, forcing her arms to her sides and locking her in a grip that stole her breath. Gasping and barely able to squirm, he toted her across the room and popped the kennel door open with one hand.

He set her on her feet and slammed a hand into her solar plexis. She crumpled, falling backwards, and landed hard on the cold and stiff corpse of Kiki.

'I know someone who will be so glad you came to visit,' Endo said, slamming the kennel door and clicking a lock into place.

Mai looped her fingers through the mesh. Rattling the cage for all she was worth, she screamed long and loud and furious.

'You'll need to be quiet, Mai,' Endo said, picking up the black-bladed knife and turning back to the hostess on the futon. 'You'll need to be quiet because this little miss and I are going to have a nice long conversation about the evils of her chosen profession. Isn't that right?'

Something hammered hard against the dead-bolted basement door. Naru's voice came through it hard and muffled—he was saying her name. Mai. Mai. Mai. _Mai. Mai. Mai. Mai._

Deep in a wormy little hole in her brain, she could hear Kennel Boy laughing and laughing and laughing. _Mai. Mai. Mai._

'Shut up!' Mai yelled, clutching her head.

Endo's laughter—a high-pitched, sneeze of a sound—joined the gritty mirth in her mind.

The dead-bolted door splintered, but held tight—the stone doorframe, however, shuddered. Little puffs of dust burst rhythmically from the wall.

Straddling the length of the cage, and Kiki as well, Mai jerked and rocked the mesh as hard as she could. The kennel pitched. It knocked into the stack of boxes, spilling black and white photographs of naked, bloodied girls onto the cold concrete floor.

'Mind the art!' Endo yelled, and the hostess whimpered. He crouched astride the girl, his face buried at the crook of her neck, his hands—

Mai slammed her back and then her shoulder into the cage walls. The kennel tipped precariously, and she nudged Kiki's body to tip the scales. The cage crashed to the side, knocking books open and canvases astray. One canvas crashed against a photography lamp, sending it to the floor where it smashed several other pieces of equipment.

Endo sprung off of the young hostess again with agility unnatural to his lumbering size. He strode toward the kennel, his fat upper lip peeled back with rage.

The doorframe cracked, and the deadbolt clanked to the floor as Naru surged into the basement room. Sweat drenched his colourless face and dripped from his mussed hair. His chest heaved with laborious breaths.

Endo's thick fingers shot through the kennel's mesh, and grasping it hard, he roared.

The room spun, tumbled, rolled—battering Mai against cage wall and floor and ceiling with Kiki's body breaking apart in the mix. The cage jolted hard against the basement floor, slamming against something dark, before whacking against the basement wall. The cage door bent but held.

Mai lay on her stomach, her legs tangled and knotted with Kiki's corpse.

'_Mai?'_

Whimpering, she managed to turn her head. Naru lay on the floor beside her. Blood oozed from his chin and smeared up his cheek. Mai tried to tell him that she was okay—winded, bruised, sliced and quite possibly broken in several places, but ultimately okay—but the only sound that came from her throat was a series of feeble and miniscule gasps.

'I've had enough interruptions.' Endo twisted his hand in Naru's shirt, lifted him and pinned him against the wall. In his free hand, Endo held the black-bladed knife. 'I don't know what's so special about you,' he said, pressing the blade against Naru's jugular. 'But I've got an estimate on _her_—and you're not worth the risk.'

Flat and arctic, Naru's eyes focused on Endo's face. 'You clearly know very little.'

Naru hooked his foot behind Endo's leg and kicked out. The action brought both men to their knees, but Endo's dogged grip kept Naru pinned and the knife remained at his throat.

All the hairs raised on Mai's body. _Mine. Mine. Stop this. Stop this now!_ _He's mine! _The voice raging in her mind belonged to Kennel Boy, but the sentiments were no different from her own. It didn't matter which one was stronger—Naru would not survive. Either his throat would be sliced open, or he'd spin every last milligram of his aura and chi into a single, butchering punch that would leave both Endo and Naru dead. _Stop them! He needs to suffer. He needs to writhe in guilt for years. Stop them, Mai!_

Searing agony buffeted Mai, but she pressed up against it—gaining her knees—but her wrist shattered the movement, and she collapsed with her forehead pressed against the cage floor.

_Weak. Weak, weak, weak! You aren't worth half of Oliver. You can't do anything right. You are going to let him die—are you really going to let that sick fucker kill him? After all this time. What are you going to do, Mai? Do you have a clue? I know what to do. I know. I know._

The air seemed to disappear into the psychic vacuum Naru was spinning. Two lighting elements shattered, and the room hummed with energy.

'Naru,' Mai whispered—but what did she want to say? Don't do it? Don't blast him? Let him kill you?

'I'm sorry, Mai.'

The ceiling juddered. Iron hooks fell from the beams. Bursts of dust thickened the air. A mounting earthquake of pure power toppled photography equipment, rattling the cage. Endo pulled away from Naru slightly, turning the knife in his hands before rapping the handle hard against Naru's temple. Naru's eyes remained open, fixed, and the roar of energy continued to build.

Mai's heart stopped for a drawn-out second before she threaded her uninjured hand into the nest of charms at her neck and yanked them off.

A balloon of energy inserted beneath her skin, inflating fast and icy, and her spirit leaked from her body like a spill from an overfull bathtub. Her consciousness stayed in the cage, even as her body wrenched the mesh from the door and darted for freedom.

'Enough, you dusii poseur!' Kennel Boy raged with her voice. She… he… her hands seized Endo's shoulder and arm and wrenched the large man away from Naru. Surprise rather than strength toppled Endo backward to the floor, crushing Mai's body beneath him. The black-bladed knife clattered out of his hand.

Naru slid down the wall, unable to even hold himself up on his knees, and the quaking petered out—like a dud firework shot into the sky only to fizzle into nothingness. He reached for the fallen knife but froze halfway through the action as Kennel Boy spoke again with Mai's voice.

'You will not take what is mine!' Kennel Boy screamed. Mai's body squirmed and beat against Endo, freeing itself partially.

Endo muscles coiled tight, and he flipped around to stare into Mai's face. He restrained her with one hand and dragged her like a carcass to her feet. Mai flinched even though she could not feel the pain that must have been racking her body.

Using Mai's voice, Kennel Boy said, 'You are breaking contract.'

Endo howled with recognition, 'The _pooka_! She allowed herself to be possessed by _you_? Get out! This one is mine.'

'She is _mine._ They are _both_ _mine_,' Kennel Boy said, and he… she… her foot rammed into Endo's kneecap, snapping the joint backwards and dropping the man to the floor.

It wasn't enough to loosen Endo's tenacious grip, and Mai's body thwacked down hard on the floor as well. Endo twisted them around, pinning her free arm between their bodies while he held her already broken wrist well above her head.

'Not so tough when you're back in a corporeal body, are you?' Endo hissed. 'Now listen to me, you little upstart. Murdagean never willed you the girl. And knowing him as I do—and we've been in business a long, long time—I can tell you that he doesn't give a shit about your personal vendetta. Your humanity is a stain no contract can erase. _Now get the fuck out of that body!_'

Kennel Boy straining Mai's body back. Though unable to free the arm held above her head, Kennel Boy twisted around and lunged for the black-bladed knife. The torque snapped the arm that was locked in Endo's grip. Mai barely had time to register the cracking sound and bulging skin—Kennel Boy grabbed the black-bladed knife off the floor and then plunged it deep into Endo's chest.


	29. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

How does one relate to the body over which one no longer has control? Mai did not know the answer. Spirit still trapped within the kennel cage, she could not feel the shattered bones in her right wrist and arm. If she could not feel that agony, did that mean she did not own the actions that her body had taken? Did it mean she did not own the murder—near murder, soon to be murder—of Father Endo?

Blood streamed from the deep wound that punctured Endo's chest just below his heart. The black blade remained buried in his flesh. Somehow it had found a way between his ribcage. Her aim had been true.

Her aim? Or was it Kennel Boy's aim?

'Photography? How plebeian,' Kennel Boy said with Mai's voice. He… she… her body rifled through the mess of pictures and books and canvases that had been scattered throughout the room during the fight. Her broken arm flapped uselessly at her side. A heap of books scattered everywhere. 'What is this crap? _Bael's Basic Studio Lighting_, _The Eager Photographer's Handbook of Studio Magic and Science_—fuck. Oh wait. Now this _is_ interesting.'

With some difficulty, Kennel Boy wedged several books and a very large sketchpad beneath Mai's arm before meandered back toward the kennel. Her body paused to stand over Endo for a long moment. 'You have been very, very naughty.'

Endo's voice gasped and rattled. '… fool… without me… plastic bag in a storm… pooka in the ether…'

'Poetic—but I disagree,' Kennel Boy said, hoisting the books higher. 'Believe me, though, I'm _eternally_ grateful—I really mean that—to you and to Mai.'

Her body turned to the cage and smiled. 'You are extraordinary. I can see why he wants you. You won't begrudge me the use of your gifts.'

'_Who are you_?' Naru demanded, his breathing laboured. He sat upright, propped against the wall. Sweat slicked his hair. Exhaustion washed the colour from his face and left it slack and waxen.

'_And you_, you call yourself a genius,' Mai's voice tisked. Her body slumped cross-legged on the floor with the sketchpad propped in her lap. 'I want you to understand something, Oliver. I'm going to let you live. You and your poor, sweet, innocent… well…' A smirk swept her face as her body glanced at Endo's slowly dying form. 'Maybe not so innocent now… Mai. But first I'd like you to look at a collection of promises that I'd like to make you. Won't take long. And you'll understand that this is just an outline. A starting point. A mere blocking out for very detailed sketches.' Pencil in hand, Kennel Boy drew several images across one page.

No matter how Mai strained within the kennel, she could not see what he sketched. Naru, however, could. His jaw tightened with every scratch of the pencil upon the page.

'Be careful,' Kennel Boy warned. 'You wouldn't want to lose control. You wouldn't want to get so angry that you killed your little Mai. That wouldn't be fun. Well, it _would_ be fun—but not nearly as fun as the games I've got planned. Lots and lots of plans, Oliver. And this time nothing is going to get in my way. This time you are going to pay for what you have done.'

Someone shouted outside. Footfall thundered, trash barrels clattered.

Kennel Boy dropped the sketchpad into Naru's lap and whispered: 'Let's play again soon—maybe you can come over to my place. If you can find the address, that is.

'Now, Mai, how does your little trick work? Oh yes, I see. Very simple.' Books gathered to her chest, Mai's body slumped forward and rested face down like a broken doll amongst the debris.

Inside the cage, Mai's spirit stilled and she braced herself for the inescapable pain that would accompany her re-entry into her body.

It never happened. The cage continued to hold her separate.

'Mai?' Naru whispered.

'Mai? Naru?' voices called from outside, and the basement door slammed open. Lin, Bou-san, John and Ayako rushed inside.

Lin skidded to a halt, falling to his knees, and grabbed Naru by the shoulders. 'Are you okay? What happened? Mai—'

'She's breathing,' John said, turning Mai's body over so that she rested on her back. The books were gone. 'But her arm is broken—maybe more than that.'

Ayako knelt down to check Mai's body, but a half-naked girl launched herself at the miko. 'Thank goodness you're here! Thank you! Thank you!' the young hostess wailed. In all the activity, Mai'd completely forgotten about her. 'Oh thank you. Thank you. Thank you.'

'Mary and Joseph,' Sister Mara gasped as she stepped into the room with Masako at her side.

The young hostess peeled herself off Ayako and sobbed against the nun. 'I'll repent. I'll do anything you say. I will. I will. Thank you. Oh thank you.'

'Okay. Okay,' Sister Mara said, patting the girl awkwardly on the back. 'I think perhaps we shall ring for the police.'

'And an ambulance,' Ayako said, turning to Endo. 'He's still alive, but barely. What the hell happened here? You two disappear into an alley and twenty minutes later—what is this place?'

Had it really been only twenty minutes? No. No, it had to have taken more time than that. It had to have…. Mai drew her knees to her chest—they were translucent, and she could see the cage floor through them. Why was she translucent? Gene was always so solid looking.

'Mai?'

Mai looked up to find Masako standing just outside the cage. Gene stood behind her, but his eyes were fixed on Endo's barely breathing body. He wore an expression she'd never seen before—one of pure loathing and smugness tinged with frustration.

Pulling the door off the cage completely, Masako knelt down and reached her hand inside the cage. It reminded Mai of a dream she'd had long ago—except that it had been Mai kneeling outside.

'Mai, you're safe now. I don't know how you came to be outside your body, but you need to go back in now.' Never before had Masako spoken to her with such kindness and genuine concern.

It wasn't that Mai didn't want to get back in her body—but she couldn't move. She didn't know how. Even her voice seemed trapped. She fixed her eyes on Gene and hoped that he'd look at her, that he'd make things okay—but he never glanced toward the cage as crept through the room and took stock of the destruction. Finally he knelt amongst the fall of books—an odd choice, Mai thought, considering how much he enjoyed modern art—though could photos of nude murder victims be called _art_?

'I don't know what's wrong with her,' Masako said.

'She was possessed,' Naru said, his voice a flat whisper.

'Possessed?' Bou-san leaned over Mai's body and pulled back her jacket collar. 'Her charms are missing. Was it Kennel Boy?'

Naru clenched the sheet of paper that rested in his lap. 'It was the one that wishes me harm.'

John cupped her body's face. 'She's clean now. There's no trace of an entity lingering inside. Not even anything that accessed her through the kimon mark.'

Masako turned back to the cage. 'See. John says it's okay. And there is no one here but us. You don't need to be scared anymore.'

That was a joke. Of course she needed to be scared. Kennel Boy may have vacated her body. He may have even resigned from his wormy little burrow in her mind, but that did not mean that he wouldn't be back. That did not mean things were all safe.

'Why wasn't she wearing her charms?' Ayako asked, and Mai winced.

'I believe she removed them,' Naru said.

Bou-san and Ayako swore.

Ayako fumbled to pull a spare charm from her purse. Bou-san snatched it from her and reached forward to pull the charm over Mai's head, but Ayako stopped him. 'She needs to return to her body first.'

In the distance emergency vehicle sirens cried their approach.

Naru drew a shaky breath. 'Mai, return to your body immediately.'

'You need to go back,' Masako insisted.

'Let me try.' Gene edged Masako aside, and the medium blinked in confusion, obviously not realising that he'd been roaming the room all along.

'Mai,' Gene said, his voice a hard imitation of his brother's. 'Lingering out here will cause problems. You need to return to your body.'

Mai shivered.

Reaching inside the cage, Gene latched onto Mai's arms with warm, substantial fingers. 'Come on, kiddo. You'll become a residual if you stay like this.' He pulled and the muscles in her legs un-cramped and she was able to partially crawl to the mouth of the cage. 'You're doing fine. Up you come. Okay, you're okay.' He pulled her to him, and she swayed before resting her head against his chest. As he smoothed his hand down her back, a choke escaped and then another. She clutched his shirt and fought futilely against her rising sobs. 'Okay. It is okay now.'

'No,' she gasped. 'No, it isn't okay. It isn't okay. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know. Naru was going to die. One way or the other, Naru was going to die—and I couldn't do anything. I didn't have the strength.'

'So you let Kennel Boy in,' Gene murmured against her hair.

'And now I've killed someone.' The words robbed her of breath.

Bitterness sharpened Gene's voice. 'He won't die. Not by your hand, anyway.'

'I didn't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know….'

Gene pulled her back and cupped her cheek in his palm. He wasn't cold like a ghost—his touch was like the sun's gentle heat on a spring afternoon. 'You must return to your body.'

Mai didn't want to return. She just wanted to keep on standing with Gene.

'_You do not belong here._'

Mai flinched at his cold words. She glanced sidelong at her broken body. '… it is going to hurt….'

'Very much. These are the payments we must make for the paths we choose.' He hugged her tight for a long moment more before guiding her toward her body. 'It won't hurt for long. If I could take your pain, I would.'

The closer they moved to her body, the stronger she felt the current at her feet—like she was a piece of lint caught in the undertow of a draining bathtub.

The grip Gene had on Mai loosened gradually as the tugging intensified, until finally he held only her hand—their arms both extended fully. He wore a sad smile, the kind people wear when they know they'll never see someone ever again. The kind people wear at someone's deathbed. Mai clung harder to his hand even as it started to slip away.

'Gene,' she whispered, but then she couldn't look at him any longer, so she glanced to the side. To Endo bleeding out on the floor. To the man that had so long been a blurred face in her nightmares. To the man she might well have killed. To the…. 'Gene, what is a dusii?'

He followed her gaze to Endo. His fingers jerked with shock, momentarily losing contact with Mai's, and then he grasped for her hand again and their palms passed one through the other. The tide yanked her legs out from beneath her, and she tumbled deep into a typhoon of pain and screams and half-breaths crushed beneath waves of fire and earth.

...

_Beep-bomp. Beep-bomp. Beep-bomp. '… six… half hours… surgery… moderate… serious bruising… abrasions… mild concussion… two cracked ribs… hairline fractures… scaphoid, trapezium… two metacarpals… compound fractures… dislocation… radius and ulna… two titanium plates, 14 screws… 18 months physical therapy… parent or closest living relative… observation… comatose…' Beep—bomp. Beep—bomp. Beep—bomp. _'… stupid… idiotic… selfish… ' _Beep—bomp. Beep-bomp. Beep-bomp. '… unforgivable… never listen… trouble… trouble… exhausted… brainless…' Beep-bomp. Beep-bomp. Beepbomp. Whiz. Clunk. '… behalf… next of kin… murderer… evidence… withheld… sketches… investigation… police report… pressing charges… Oliver… ' Beep. Beep. Beep. Footsteps. Beep-bomp. Beep-bomp. Beep-bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Clack. Clack. Clack. Footsteps. _

_Whistling. _

_Ring. Ring. Ring. Telephone. The telephone. Ring. Ring. Ring. _

_Someone answer the telephone._

'_Room 739.'_

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

'…_against Mai is one thing. Threats against… Davis family… Madoka are another—' _

_Tinny voices. Distant. Beep—bomp._

'… _you, Lin, but it is all the same to Ayako and me.' _

_Beep—bomp._

'_Either way, Mai needs to be revived…' _

_Beep—bomp._

'… _can't expect her to leap back into the case… injuries… permanent…' _

_-bomp._

'…_emotions… … …Takigawa-san… wake her now or later, she will suffer—' _

'… _deservedly… think twice next time… tempted to… possession… you… emotionally compromised… soon!' _

_._

'… _ICU! …leave… control of yourselves.' _

_.Beep._

'… _aren't finished...'_

_.Beep. _

'_No kidding.'_

_Slam. _

_. Beepbomp. Beep-bomp._

'… _don't listen… sweetheart… sleep…' _

_Beep-bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Squeak. Squeak. Rustle. _

_Sigh._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Creak. _

'… _shouldn't be out of bed.'_

'_I'm fine.'_

'… _no such thing. Please…'_

'_When will she wake?'_

'… _bouts… lucidity… relapse… insisting she… bring her about rapidly… doctors disagree… the body chooses to temporarily shut down… reasons of self-preservation… these kinds of traumatic events… let nature steer the course.'_

'_Do you see _these kinds_ often?'_

'… _too often… back to your room… nothing you can do here.'_

_Sigh. _

_Rustle. Squeak. Squeak. Creak._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

'_Lin, shut the door before Matsuzaki comes back.'_

_Click._

'_We can't ignore the truth, Noll. Without both of you awake, we will never put an end to it.'_

'_Your persistence regarding this topic is unwarranted and callous at best.'_

'_Hypocrisy does not suit you.'_

'_Nor does idiocracy suit you.'_

'_This refusal to communicate is what precipitated the current situation.'_

'_We have leads.'_

'_Endo? He's a false link.'_

'_The supposition that Endo is a dusii?' _

'_A dusii poseur—those are the words you said the entity called Endo. A dusii poseur—a human acting out in the manner of an incubus. Molesting, photographing and painting murdered prostitutes makes him monster, for sure, but a demon? No.'_

'_I want to talk to him.'_

'_You're in no condition—'_

'_I want to talk to him.'_

'_He's been moved to a secure location for treatment. A psychiatric ward. They won't let you see him, let alone speak with him.'_

_Sigh. _

_Beep-bomp. Beep-bomp. Beep-bomp._

'_This is what you wanted with Phillipe—this is what you petitioned the courts for. What is the difference between this psychopath and Phillipe?'_

_Rustle._

'_Phillipe nearly killed you and Martin.'_

'_This is different.'_

'_I don't see how.'_

'_You do—if you didn't, you wouldn't be fixated on that entity's "_promises"_—scribbles on a piece of paper. A scare tactic.'_

_Beep-bomp. Beep._

'_We need to wake Mai up and take action now.'_

'_If Mai wakes now, she'll lack lucidity—and that's assuming the answers we need are locked in that labyrinthine brain of hers.' _

_Beep-bomp. Beep._

'… _let her sleep. John is monitoring her to make sure the entity does not re-forge the kimon mark and take roost again.'_

'_Mai calls the entity "Kennel Boy".'_

_Beepbomp. Beepbomp. Beepbomp._

'_She does have a way with cognomens—though in this case, I believe it to be a misnomer as the entity clearly possesses a pubescent developmental age and the kennel belonged to Endo.'_

'_We need her awake.'_

_.Beep._

_Beepbomp._

_Beep-bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Beep—bomp._

_Throb._

_Beep—bomp._

_Throb. Throb._

_Beep—bomp—bomp—beep…_

A slow, building pressure rolled up her arms, her legs and in its path it left fire and static and sheet lightning flashing between nerves. A momentary sting in her arm almost did not register. The pressure balled together and seeped deep into her chest—pushing and pushing and digging in as though it wished to burrow through her and into the bed beneath.

Gasping turned rapidly to gagging—and then the foreign object was tugged from her throat, and the gagging returned to gasping, which in turn felt like knitting needles piercing between her ribs and exploded out her back like pistons.

'… open your eyes, Mai…'

She couldn't. She couldn't. Someone had her retinas in a vice and it was turning, turning, turning—and the knitting needles pierced and the fires raged and great hammers struck the bones in her forearm. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

'… Mai…'

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. The crescendo of noise and agony rose up like a great tsunami preparing to crash down upon her. No. It didn't want to crash upon her, it wanted to sweep her up in its power, to toss her and rip her apart as it mounted higher and higher.

A haze snaked through her veins to break apparent the chaos, to separate the pains—arm, fingers, chest, knees, head, hip.

'Mai. The morphine should be taking effect. Open your eyes.'

The vice on her retinas loosened enough to allow her eyelids to lift slightly. Through harsh white light, she made out the fuzzy outline of someone tall. Focus came slowly, and when it did, it revealed Lin—eyes deeply sunk, skin sallow, lips colourless and pressed thin.

'Drink.' He pressed a straw to her mouth. When she couldn't summon the strength to suck the water, he tossed the straw aside and pressed the cup to her mouth. 'Drink it.'

He parted her lips with his fingers and spilled water into her mouth, where it gathered in the back of her throat but would not go down. He lifted her head, tipping it until the water rushed down her throat. Her stomach and lungs protested, but she could barely managed a cough. Again he put the cup to her lips.

Tears of frustration slipped down her cheeks. She tried and failed to protest his ministrations.

'Drink again. I know you don't want to—but you must drink again,' he murmured, forcing another wash of water into her mouth. This time it slid down her throat like a tumble of rocks. He pressed the cup to her mouth again.

'… no…' Her whisper came out as thin as a wayward thread.

He paused.

'… no more…'

The cup lifted from her lips. 'Good. You're able to speak. I can't let you sleep any longer. Do you understand?'

_They were in a hospital room. Lin was all alone. Pain thrummed through her as though she were plugged into an electric generator. Kennel Boy had possessed her body. Together they had nearly killed a man. A bad man. Naru was not in the room. Did she understand?_

'… no…'

'Naru is no longer the only one in danger from your kennel boy. Threats have been made toward everyone connected to SPR. Even Naru's parents. Even Madoka and the baby. Kennel Boy is already penetrating their dreams.'

The images of Kennel Boy's exhibition staggered through her mind. Gruesome images. Promises. The exhibition had been titled _Promises_. She'd known about these _promises_ long before whatever Kennel Boy had shown Naru in Saint Giles' basement room.

'Do you know what I am speaking about?'

'… yes…'

'Did you see it in a dream?'

'… yes…'

'What else have you seen and not told me about?'

What could she say? What did she have the strength to say?

'Think. The dreams that you have—the ones you call marathon night terrors—are you sure they are unrelated? You've missed something. You know something we need.'

'…no...'

'You do,' he said, bracing his arms on either side of her and staring down at her. 'Consider everything that's happened in the past months. Every single dream you've had. Close your eyes and see the whole puzzle.'

The whole puzzle? Marathon night terrors were like shattered pieces from a hundred different sets of china. '… too big… too much…' she said, tears running down her face.

'You have not given us enough pieces. If it is too big and too much, you are keeping us from the truth. You are putting everyone in danger.'

'_What the hell is this?'_

'… Gene…'

'What about Gene?' Lin demanded.

Mai shifted her eyes to the ghostly brother. 'You should be asleep,' Gene said, fury lighting his face. 'What the hell does he think he is doing? Noll is going to _flay_ him.'

'What about Gene, Mai?' Lin shouted, and her very cilia cowered in her ears.

'… here.'

Lin nodded with comprehension. 'Don't interfere, Eugene.'

'Tell him to stop,' Gene said. 'Tell him that this cannot possibly be what Madoka wants.'

'… Madoka—'

'What about her?'

'… no…'

'Tell me. Tell me what you see.'

'… backwash. Just backwash…'

'No vision is backwash. Remember what you said to me about the corpses in the kennel cage? You told me not to treat them like old tyres. You told me they were girls. They were real. They deserved our respect. Lend some of that respect to the visions you've classified as backwash. Just close your eyes and see the important pieces.' His voice gentled. 'Please. Just the really important ones.'

Her eyes roamed the room wildly until they fell upon Gene. _Important to whom?_

'Try,' Lin seethed. 'Try to see _anything_.'

As Mai focused on Gene, the face of The Academic flashed in her mind. '… gentleman… talk… knows… history, art, philosophy,' she said, unable to break her gaze from her ghostly guardian. _'__Potentissimi donum donum vitae__.'_

Lin translated, 'The most powerful gift is the gift of life.'

Gene stiffened. 'What is his name?'

'… don't know… said he'll teach me… make paper—'

Gene fisted his hands. 'Absolutely not.'

'… inside his studio—nothing… paper...'

Lin pressed his hands against her shoulders, and her soul seemed to shrivel away. 'What else have you seen?'

Gasping, she whispered, 'Jars… paintbrushes… like locks of hair on long sticks...'

Gene sat on the bed and leaned over Lin's shoulder. 'Why didn't you tell me about this before?'

'Did. Escape Kennel Boy… empty room...'

'Empty?'

'… paper… jars… ' A shiver stole up her spine. She knew they weren't just any jars. They were jars with red-and-white chequered caps.

'What was in the jars?' Gene prompted.

'… no…'

Lin pressed his fingers against Mai's temples. 'I need you to look _harder._'

Mai sobbed, and with her mind's eye, she watched her shaking hands reach for one of the jars in The Academic's studio. It was warm, like it had been left out in the sun, and the cap was stuck. Sweat slicked her palms, and the jar slipped from her hands and shattered on the floor. Blood washed her feet. Blood from inside the jar.

'Is it blood or is it bone?' Gene asked.

'Blood,' she whispered. 'Jars collected by Endo.'

'A name, Mai. Who was Endo contracted to give the jars to?'

_Contract. Contract. Kennel Boy had said something about a contract. Who? A name. Just a name. A name. Endo called Kennel Boy a pooka. Kennel Boy called Endo a dusii—he was breaking contract but someone wouldn't mind. Someone. Someone… 'Murdagean.'_

If it were possible for a ghost to become paler, Gene would have managed it. He jerked off of the bed like Mai had shot him. 'I'll be back. Don't do anything stupid,' he said, heading for the door. His parting words echoed in from the hallway, 'Tell my brother not to do anything stupid.'

'He left,' Mai whispered.

Lin's thumbs slid down, gripping her jaw, and forced Mai to look into his face. 'Murdagean?'

'Gene.'

'Mai, focus. Whatever you just saw, it didn't tell me enough. I need you to see another piece of the puzzle.'

'Can't!'

Lin jerked his hands off of her face and fisted them. 'You need to tell me something! Anything!' He gripped her shoulders and shook her. Her world blurred with the jarring force.

Agony throbbed through her, and her vision pulsed with still images separated by blinding flashes of white light. A shattered window. A garden patio. A dark-haired little boy shaking with rage. His pain, his frustration burned inside her bones. '…stop…' she sobbed, her voice splintering. Lin continued to shake her. Her teeth rattled. Her heart sloshed in her chest. '…stop… stop it… not a Magic Eight Ball… _I am not a Magic Eight Ball!_'

'_Stop_.'


	30. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

'Where did you hear that?'

Naru smoothed a hand over Mai's sweating forehead and swept her fringe off her face. She flinched, but there was no escaping—and maybe it didn't matter. John had pronounced Kennel Boy gone from within her. No voice of perverted glee wormed through her mind.

Lowering himself to the bed, Naru repeated himself, 'Where did you hear that?'

Mai blinked up at him. He'd thrown Lin. He'd grabbed onto the back of Lin's shirt, yanked him back, and thrown him to the ground. He'd done it with frigid rage—the kind of rage that she'd only ever seen once before on his face, and that was when the divers finally pulled Gene's body from the lake.

Cupping her head with both hands, Naru leaned forward. 'Where did you hear that?' His tone was the same as Lin's had been not a moment before. A horrible tone. Demanding. Shaking her to her core and digging at her bones.

'Did you hear that in a dream? You need to answer me. I need an answer.'

Tears blurred her vision. '…please…' she whispered brokenly. '…please, Naru… I'm not… I'm not a Magic Eight Ball...'

The grip on her head loosened instantly. 'I know you're not. Mai,' he said, sitting up and taking in her bandages and cast. 'Mai, I know you aren't a mystic wealth of knowledge.'

Relief flooded through her, lifting her above her pains, and after a few shallow breaths, her muscles loosened and her eyes closed. It didn't last, though. Cloth rustled—Lin picking himself up off the floor—and tremors of anxiety and frustration reverberated through Mai's bones.

No one could truly understand how she felt. She wasn't some plastic toy to be yelled at and glared at and shaken mercilessly whenever someone needed an answer or a clue. But that's how they treated her. Once her gift for dreams has been confirmed at SPR, she'd gradually become nothing more than a Magic Eight Ball. No one understood. No one could ever understand. No one except possibly the little dark-haired boy from her dreams…

'… the boy that broke the window in the garden… no one understands us…' she said in a terribly thin voice. '… no one understands… I'm not… we're not Magic Eight Balls… you can't shake loose the answers… we aren't… we…'

'You aren't toy prophets.' Naru's tight, quiet voice begged Mai to open her eyes again—but she couldn't. She couldn't. 'Do you know the boy?'

A great seawall of fog rolled over her, and behind her closed eyelids she saw the boy. Too thin. Too pale. Scared. '… I know him… the boy from the kitchen… _I know him_… but… can't ever see him right… always in my periphery.' Mai's mouth trembled. 'He's the boy from the alley. The bad man grabbed him. Hurt him.'

'No, he didn't.' The bed creaked. Warm breath heated her ear. Naru pitched his voice lower. 'The bad man grabbed Gene. Pitt was hurting Gene.'

Mai felt as though she were caught in an explosion of blood. Heavy liquid laded her clothes. She gagged on the scent of hot copper. 'You—'

'Pitt was a bad man. A very bad man.'

She slid her uninjured hand to Naru's arm and squeezed it as hard as she could in her weakened state. '… he won't ever forgive you...'

'What are you talking about?' Lin growled.

Exhaustion weighed down her eyelids, and opening them was like single-handedly pushing a car up Mount Fuji. '… other boy at the orphanage…' Mai whispered, breath laboured.

'What orphanage,' Lin demanded.

'The Hadley Children's Home where Luella and Martin found us.' Naru drew in a thick breath before adding grimly, 'Where we first met Etienne Phillipe.'

Waves of rage radiated off of the onmyouji. 'You _have a history_ with that bastard? Noll, you _never_ said—'

'I didn't feel it relevant. Furthermore, had I made it common knowledge, it would only have caused Luella and Martin undue emotional pain. They have barely started to recover from the loss of my brother.' Naru looked at Lin with an even expression. The professional tone in his voice said that he'd not listen to any arguments against his decision for silence.

When Lin remained primed to lash out, Naru added, 'One does what they must to protect family. You are familiar with this theory, are you not, Lin?'

Some of the starch went out of Lin, and he glanced guilty at Mai before turning away. '_But it never came up in my research_,' he muttered.

'Etienne Phillipe is the French translation of his birth name, Stephen Phillip. He changed his name in an attempt to retrace his French-Polynesian heritage.' Naru folded his hands in his lap. It should have been a calm gesture, but his knuckles were white. 'It is not uncommon for orphaned children to change their names in an attempt to reclaim or disown personal history.' Naru lectured with absolute detachment in his voice—not once citing himself as just such an orphan that had changed his name for purposes of anonymity.

'_But what does this mean?_' Lin spun back to face them, his patience hanging by a thread. 'According to Mai and Gene, and my own research, we are dealing with a spirit. Etienne Phillipe may be crazy enough to do this—psychically powerful enough too—but he is _alive. _This is futile.'

Lin slammed his hand into the wall. Serene Lin. Balanced Lin. Pokerfaced Lin. Mai had allowed things to progress so badly that even SPR's most sturdy pillar was crumbling before her. It was hopeless. She was hopeless. All she did was run them around in circles. All she wanted was to be done. She couldn't help anymore. She couldn't do anything else.

The bed creaked again, and Naru's voice came from further away. 'Check again.'

'Why?' Lin asked.

'_Check again._ Find out how that medical facility defines _alive_,' Naru demanded.

'This line of investigation,' he said through clenched teeth, 'is redundant and unlikely.'

Naru drew himself to his fullest height while still remaining seated on the bed. Exceptionally familiar with this particular bit of body language, Mai held her breath and waited for Naru's indubitably harsh and overly honest words.

'It is only redundant if you've done your job correctly.' Naru's eyebrow flicked, and Mai couldn't tear her gaze away from that tiny, haughty expression that could bring even the greatest of men to their knees. 'Also ask Martin if he still has _that old photograph_.The one in the Hadley Children's Home case file. The one he used to identify Gene and me.' Again Lin's rage welled at Naru's tyrannical tone, but he was no match for Naru's biting words. 'Do you want to save Madoka? A continued high-level of stress and lack of sleep cannot be good for the pregnancy. Get me what I've asked for.'

Maybe the morphine gave her super hearing powers—or maybe Lin actually slammed the door as he stormed out of the hospital room. Both seemed equality unlikely: super hearing and Lin throwing a wobbly.

The numbing fog couldn't make up its mind—soothe her ribs, soothe her head, soothe her arm, soothe everything else—so it pulsed annoyingly. One moment Mai could say for sure that her wrist thrummed with agony, and then the next moment she did not have a wrist or arm for that matter, but alien life forms were trying to burst out from beneath her ribs.

'You need another dose of medication,' Naru said. He shifted around on the bed—and Mai was pretty sure now that the aliens beneath her ribcage were hosting a rugby tournament.

Something beeped, and some indeterminable time later, a deluge of numbing rain halted the rugby tournament. Which was strange because the breeze was warm on her face. It smelled like tea. Lovely, lovely tea.

'…Naru…' She gazed up through trembling eyelashes at his face. He filled the sky. The grown face of the dark haired boy from her dreams. '…killed the bad man…' Mai whispered. 'You killed him to save Gene.'

'Yes,' Naru murmured.

'Lin doesn't know.'

He nodded, and her sky bobbed. 'Only me and you, Gene and Etienne Phillipe know about it.'

'The children saw… the body in the alleyway—what was left of it….' She cringed at the memory of the fleshy mess, and Naru's eyes slid away from her face. 'Is _Kennel Boy_ the bad man?'

'Pitt—he wasn't psychic.' Naru's face pinched with bitter memories. 'Whomever this _Kennel Boy_ is, he was an exceptionally strong psychic in life.'

'Etienne?'

'If he's dead.'

'Gene… said….' She breathed slow and shallow, waiting for another haze to wash over her. '…sometimes when strong psychics die… violently…they get confused… can't find their way out of the ether… drift… dream to dream... nightmare to nightmare… and go crazy...'

'Etienne Phillipe has always been crazy. Even as a child. He was crazy with jealousy and completely delusional. He thought Pitt was his father.' His voice was hard and struck a harsh ringing into her bones. She tried to bundle her nerves tight, but the drug-induced haze seemed to spread her thin.

She wished she had the strength to hold his hand. '… do you regret—'

'No.'

Machines whizzed and beeped.

Naru sighed with deep and ancient exhaustion. 'Pitt would have killed Gene.'

'… you didn't know… you could kill him...'

'I knew I could hurt him.'

Her vision blurred, sleep hauling her into an uncomfortable darkness—like she was a fish trapped in a trawler's net. She fought against it. She wasn't ready to leave Naru alone. '… when… when you love someone… you… find you can do… more than you ever thought…'

'Go to sleep.'

'… dream...'

'I said sleep.'

'…don't want...'

'Why must you always argue?'

'Why… autocratic tone…?'

'Big word for a dummy.'

'… won't provoke...'

'I need you to get better.'

'… why…?'

'What good are you to me broken?'

'… jerk...'

...

'He's annnnngry. Annnnnngry.' Mai rolled her head to the side and blinked at her bedside companion. 'Naru-naru, why's that pineapple annnnngry with me?'

'Pineapple?' the pineapple shouted, voice rough with fatigue.

Chibi Naru-naru sighed. 'It's the drugs, Takigawa-san. Leave her be.'

'Beaver bee? Ha ha ha… ouchy.'

...

Heavy narcotics and Mai had never played well together. Her bevy of dismayed doctors finally settled on a drug-cocktail that left her muscles feeling like gelatine but her brain reasonably lucid. The nurses came in every two hours and made Mai move around—an excruciating and ungainly task. They took out her catheter and removed her large diaper—a mortifying experience she'd be pleased to forget—and Ayako went to great lengths to detail her each and every injury and how she could have avoided them all if only she'd stayed at the gate of the alleyway as Ayako had directed her to do.

Mai wore nine charms knotted tightly at her neck. The only way to remove them was to cut the cords—and what with Mai's right forearm and wrist busted to bits, there was little chance that Mai could remove them alone and open herself up to possession again.

Not that she'd even consider it.

'Feeling more clear-headed?' Naru marched into her room, black notebook in hand, and sat down in the chair beside her bed.

_Was she feeling more clear-headed? _Though Naru no longer appeared to be a chibi-version of himself, he did seem to be wearing blue pyjamas beneath a terrycloth robe—was it another hallucination?

Mai reached out with her uninjured hand and rubbed her fingers over his sleeve. It felt like terrycloth. 'Are you wearing white?'

'Your powers of observation astound me. Now turn them to this,' he said, taking something from his notebook.

Propped up but otherwise immobile—to her body's dismay—Mai gestured vaguely with her uninjured hand. 'Is it the picture of from Hadley Children's Home?

'No, that hasn't arrived yet.' Naru unfolded the paper—a thick and deeply textured stock torn from a sketchpad. 'This is something you drew while you were possessed.'

Clenching her fist, Mai looked away. 'I already know what's on that paper.'

'How?'

She was going to get yelled at again. That's what Lin had done. Bou-san too—although she'd thought he was a ranting pineapple at the time. And now it was Naru's turn. 'I dreamed about it, okay? It was Kennel Boy's exhibition. He showed it to me when Ayako first started sealing the kimon mark with her charms. I thought it was just another threat—he's made so many.'

'You know that every other person working on this case has now had at least one dream that corresponds to these sketches.' Mai didn't need to nod—of course she knew. Guilt ate at her. She'd gladly put Kennel Boy back in the wormy hole in her brain, if it spared them the horrific experiences. 'And you know Madoka is pregnant,' Naru continued, his voice even and cool. 'And one of the sketches is titled _Mother and Child_.'

Swallowing thickly, Mai kept her gaze on her lap.

'So you understand why Lin felt he needed to wake you.'

'Yes.'

Naru folded the paper and tucked it back into his notebook. 'Perhaps you can explain it to Matsuzaki. She's rather riled, and she has security barring Lin's entrance back into the hospital.'

'Has he had word back from Carstairs Psychiatric Hospital?'

Naru stared steadily at his open notebook, pen held above as though wait to strike. 'I have Martin working through that red tape.'

'Why do you call your father _Martin_?'

He spoke without looking up. 'I don't see how that is relevant.'

Mai bit her lip. Maybe that had been a little too personal. It wasn't something she'd ever have comfortably asked Gene, so she couldn't imagine why she'd thought it appropriate to ask Naru. As Gene would say, she was cursed with a stupid brain and an unhinged mouth.

She wondered where that ghostly brother had gone. What had upset him? What was he doing? What were they all doing? No one but Mai and Naru seemed to be sleeping undisturbed—and that was a thoroughly bad and dangerous sign of things to come. When were those bad things going to come back? 'If Kennel Boy is Etienne Phillipe, what are we going to do?'

'A course of action cannot be built upon supposition,' Naru responded, and only then did she realise she'd spoken that last thought aloud.

Wetting her lips, she said in her best professional voice, 'It doesn't seem advisable to allow Masako to summon him.'

'That was never an option.'

Relieved at least with that, she relaxed a bit. 'What's the deal with Endo?'

'The police are proving to be problematic.'

There was a question that had been swimming around in her fishbowl of a brain, but she'd not had the courage to ask before. 'Are they going to arrest me for attempted murder?'

Naru snapped his notebook closed and scowled at her. 'Endo has been charged with twelve accounts of murder and three accounts of assault with intention to kill—those would be the attempts on me, you and the hostess.'

'Twelve_ girls.'_ Her breath rattled around in her chest.

'Four of them worked at Gin Knockers. There are allegations regarding thirty-eight additional murders suspected to have taken place in Britain. John is helping the detectives decide if the murders have links to satanic ritual.'

Her heart bounded hard, and a clammy flush swept over her body. How many of those girls had she dreamed about? How many of her marathon terrors had come directly from their violent ends? 'Gene would agree.'

'Have you seen Gene since you woke up?'

Mai's mouth went dry. 'Gene was here when I woke up… with Lin.'

Naru's jaw clenched.

'… he seemed upset to learn that Endo has a contract with… with…'

'Murdagean.'

Mai licked her lips and nodded. 'Who is Murdagean?'

Naru looked at her long and hard before admitting, 'Haven't the faintest notion.'

It felt like they were missing something—something that both she and Naru should recall. Gesturing helplessly, Mai said tentatively, 'Kennel Boy knows this Murdagean too?' Naru didn't bother opening his notebook to jot the thought down, so obviously he'd already worked this into his summation of the case. 'But why did Endo want me so badly?'

'I suspect it has a lot to do with your psychic abilities,' John said, coming into the room. His face was drawn, clothing rumpled, and he collapsed into one of the bedside chairs as though he'd been walking for days. 'I am quite convinced that Endo was conducting ritual sacrifices in an attempt to become an incubus—he appears to have been quite successful too—though I'm not sure why he photographed the scenes and painted with his victims' blood. It doesn't fit with traditional satanic rituals.' He scrubbed a hand over his face. 'Targeting strong psychics, however, does fit as your blood is considered to be more potent.'

Looking for something to help ease the young exorcist's exhaustion, the only thing Mai came up with was a can of soda that Bou-san had left earlier. She tried to hand it to Naru, but he looked at it like she was trying to hand him a dead bird. Looking pointedly toward John, she pressed the can toward Naru again. Finally Naru gave in, took the drink and handed it to John, who in turn politely thanked Mai before opening it.

He took several large swigs of the beverage before smiling, and it reminded Mai of a cheesy cola advertisement.

'But then why not take me?' Naru said, ruining the moment.

John shrugged. 'Maybe he only wanted women.'

'He said Mai was worth more.'

'Prick your pride, did it?' Mai said in a tight voice.

Naru blinked at her, and she swore she saw his mouth twitch before he raised his eyebrow and turned back to John. 'Mai possesses a psychic amalgamation more complex than my own—perhaps he was more interested in the cocktail mix than in the strength of proof. Although why he chose one of us over the other is immaterial.'

'I hope that you will not take this as a sign of disloyalty,' John said, first looking at Naru but ultimately appealing to Mai. 'The police have formally requested my assistance regarding Endo's case. I possess the knowledge they require regarding rituals and texts—'

'John, if you wish to transfer your attentions fully to the Endo case, I will not protest,' Naru said. 'The trafficking of sacrificial blood and satanic rituals cannot be ignored.'

John looked to Mai. Only when she nodded in agreement did he loose a sigh of relief. 'I truly appreciate your understanding. I wish I could work on both cases, but there is just so much evidence to sift through regarding Endo.' He scrubbed at his eyes again and rattled on with an unfocused voice tinged with forced-cheerfulness. 'I just can't seem to get any sleep—I've been having _awful_ nightmares. I guess it is apt. I am after all researching a _dusii_—a creator of night terrors. And anyway it's hard to sleep well when dealing with satanic rituals. You know, though, for all the evidence—for all Endo's photographic documentation of his rituals—you'd think he would have kept a written record as well. But there's nothing. Absolutely nothing. I shouldn't be talking to you about this, but… you'd think there'd be something. Anyway, I'm glad you aren't offended. Perhaps, I'll turn up something regarding Mai's case in the meantime.' John stood wearily and yawned.

'Any input you could lend us would be welcome,' Naru said. 'However, regarding Mai's case—I believe by going after Endo we have tackled the wrong end of the situation.'

'Perhaps it is a case of the blind men and the elephant,' John said.

'Let us hope not.'

...

'Shibuya-san?' A busty nurse popped her head though the doorway.

Mobile pressed to his ear and notebook open, Naru held his hand up. _Silence_.

The daft girl clearly mistook Naru's gesture for something like _just one moment please_ or _I'll be with you in a minute, thank you for waiting. _She giggled and flipped her hair. Was it hygienic to wear one's hair down in a hospital? Mai'd have to ask Ayako next time she came by the room.

Poor Ayako was looking about as rough as John. If it meant that Ayako got some rest Mai would put up with stupid nurses flapping about in an attempt to impress Naru.

Shuffling into the room—why was it the doll-faced bimbos always _shuffled?_—the nurse tried to plump Mai's pillows. She did it without actually looking at Mai, and Mai bit down a gasp as her nerves seemed to pinch between her ribs.

Barely resisting the urge to smack her away, Mai gave the unhelpful cow a nasty nipped smile. 'Shall I give Shibuya-san a message?'

'What?' the nurse said as though just realising that Mai was resting on the pillows she mindlessly shifted. 'Oh Taniyama-san. Now Shibuya-san did say that you were his personal assistant, but I think it would be better if I gave him the message myself.'

_Personal Assistant_. That suggested that he was _paying_ Mai, and he was most definitely _not._ _Jerk_. 'What message?' Mai demanded.

The nurse drew an envelope from her pocket. 'Something his tall friend asked me to give him.'

Mai had yet to convince Ayako to allow Lin back into the hospital. It was difficult to argue with the miko when she looked like death and kept citing Mai's own safety as her key motive.

The nurse was making goo-goo eyes at Naru, swaying back and forth beside Mai's bed. The envelope was held loosely in her hand.

Mai snatched it away.

'Hey!' the nurse shouted. She darted in to reclaim the envelope, and in doing so, she knocked against Mai's cast.

Lava shot down her arm.

'You, get out!' Naru shouted, and the nurse relinquished the envelope to Mai before scurrying into the hallway.

A cool hand wrapped around her uninjured wrist. Mobile still pressed to his ear, Naru glowered down at her. 'Be quiet.'

Heaving in one aching breath after another, Mai realised she'd been yelling.

Naru released her wrist and paced across the room. 'Continue.'

Mai'd always been a proponent of _breathing through the pain_—but with cracked ribs, it wasn't an easy task. Her face felt clammy, waxy. Her wobbling muscles tremored like icky green Jell-O rumbling along on a trolley of hospital food.

With unsteady fingers, she peeled back the flap on the envelope and used her thumb to pull out a glossy copy of a faded photograph. Two-dozen boys and girls wearing matching blue hoodies and red shorts. Her eyes first went to two identical faces. Dark haired Asian boys. Too thin. Too pale. The ferrety man stood behind them, a hand on each boy's shoulder. Greedy. Smug. A bad man. Pitt. And just behind him. Just to his left. Half hidden in a shadow.

'Etienne Phillipe is brain-dead,' Naru said, snapping his mobile closed.

'It's him,' Mai whispered.

'We need to wait for one more confirmation.'

'No, Naru.' Her voice was quiet but flat—calmer than perhaps it should have been as she stared into the face of her tormentor. He didn't look so scary in the picture. He looked sad. Unwanted. His golden brown hair amuss. Dirt smudging his plump, tanned cheeks. Eyes fixed on Pitt while all the other children stared obediently into the camera lens. 'It's him.'

The bed dipped beneath Naru's weight. His shoulder pressed against Mai's as he lifted the photograph from her trembling hand. 'Show me,' he whispered.

Shivering, Mai lifted her index finger but she couldn't bring herself to point Kennel Boy out. What if he suddenly came to life within the photograph, seized hold of her, and tore her from Naru and into a new nightmare?

'It's just a photograph,' Naru said through gritted teeth, and it sounded to Mai as though he were trying to convince himself as much as her.

She jabbed lightly at Kennel Boy's image and pulled her hand back quick. When her finger remained whole, when the boy in the photograph remained completely frozen in time, Mai pressed her finger firmly against the glossy page. '_It's him._'


	31. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Long, drawn out shrieks of terror echoed through the hospital ward. Mai pulled her blanket up over her head in a futile attempt to buffer the sound.

'Ayako is screaming again,' Mai said, her voice muffled.

'I'm sure Takigawa will take care of her.'

'Naru!' Clawing out of the blanket, Mai stared at his handsome but too stony face. 'I wish you'd show more concern.' His face didn't even twitch. 'She's been falling asleep and waking up screaming for_ hours_.'

'Days. So has Takigawa. So has Hara. So has John. By the sound of his voice, I suspect same is true for Lin. Every time someone has a bad dream I can't stop what I'm doing.'

'What _are_ you doing?'

Naru frowned down at the open notebook in his lap. 'Assessing my options.'

'If you'd let me know what they are, I could help. I'm sick of being treated like a mental patient.'

'If you were a mental patient, you'd be strapped down.'

'What do you call this?' She gestured roughly at her injured arm.

'A cast.'

Mai huffed and knocked her head back against her pillow. 'Just give me a _hint_ of what's going on in that mind of yours.'

'You'd have a brain aneurism.'

He was _so annoying_, and she focused on that fact rather than the aching movement that accompanied the adjustment of her bed. 'Oliver Davis, I don't know if you say things like that because you want to hurt me or you enjoy making me angry or if it is some kind of sarcastic defence mechanism—but I'm going to be up front with you. These last few months have been difficult—more difficult than normal—and after all that's happened, I think I deserve some clemency, some honesty, some disclosure.'

'Clemency.'

Mai repositioned her pillow so that she could more easily glare at the narcissist. 'Yes. I think you are being selfish and childish—'

'_Honesty_.'

'I know it is a foreign word for you—'

'_Disclosure_.'

Mai swallowed. 'I may have… sidestepped those attributes recently—what can I say, I learned from the best—but now we are facing something bigger than just keeping you safe. Now we need to keep everyone safe.'

'How was it ever your job to keep me safe?' Naru crossed an ankle over his knee and slouched—like he was relaxing into a sparring pose.

'I don't want to fight.'

He splayed his fingers and gestured toward her. 'I want an answer.'

'I gave you an answer. I gave you an answer on the day you left me—and you threw it in my face,' Mai said, and Naru had the good grace to break eye contact. 'If you can figure everything out so precisely inside that brilliant brain of yours without any help from anyone else—you figure out the answer yourself.'

Naru flipped randomly through the pages of his notebook. 'Etienne Phillipe is my problem.'

'And Kennel Boy is mine.'

'Etienne Phillipe is Kennel Boy,' he stated without malice.

Mai was now starting to understand why Lin was so frustrated. Naru's reaction to Etienne Phillipe wasn't quite right. Yes, he was cross. Yes, he wanted to keep everyone from further harm—but it was all fed by an anger dampened by Naru's guilt over the death of Pitt. Naru had killed the orphanage manager to save Gene, but in the end a death was a death, no matter what the excuse. Naru could not forgive himself.

That guilt was exactly the kind of emotion Kennel Boy would exploit. Naru needed to stop thinking of their nemesis as an old acquaintance and start dealing with what he'd become. 'He's something different from what you knew.'

'He's a petulant child with too much psychic ability.'

'He's a killer. A sociopath. You need to accept that. You need to take that into consideration as you sit around pondering options in that mammoth brain of yours. And remember that while you ponder, he's taking action.' Mai reached out and grabbed Naru's sleeve. 'He's hurting our friends.'

Naru drew his arm out of her reach.

Mai flushed terribly. She was a terrible hypocrite. It seemed like only yesterday that she'd been screaming _don't touch me_ at him. For all her trying to protect him, what had she even managed? 'You can be as upset with me as you want. I know I deserve it. I should have kept him trapped inside me. I let him out. I let him use my abilities. I let him trace Endo's books back into the ether—'

'Say that again.'

_Jerk._ Grovelling once wasn't enough for him, she had to say it all over again. 'It is my fault.'

This time Naru grabbed onto her good wrist. 'You let him trace books into the ether.'

'In the basement room,' she whispered, flinching but not pulling away. 'He did it right in front of you.'

Naru nodded, his eyes glazing with a far-off expression. 'The books were in your lap. He abandoned your body and you slumped forward. When John turned you over, the books were gone.'

'I thought you knew.' She leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze but his eyes remained unfocused. 'I thought that's what you meant when you were talking to John about the blind men and the elephant.'

'What was in the books?'

Mai wet her lips nervously. 'I don't know.'

'You never saw what was inside them?' He finally looked at her with a prodding expression. 'They were spilled all over the floor beside the kennel when I walked in.'

Mai squeezed her eyes tight and tried to drum up a clear memory. 'I don't know what it says. It's all Latin.'

'The saying is _It's all Greek to me_.'

'No, I mean, it was written in Latin. I can recognise it that much, but I'm better with spoken languages.' Opening her eyes and staring at him beseechingly, she added, 'Dead ones aren't really applicable.'

'You are good with spoken language.' He pronounced each word with great care. Mai blinked. He agreed? Was that even maybe a compliment? 'Did… Gene… help you with your English?'

'I suppose,' she whispered, distracted by the fact that Naru had not yet released her wrist. 'I mean, English is what we speak when we're together. I think. Sometimes I can't really tell.'

'What are we speaking right now?'

'Sorry?'

His grip tightened on her wrist. 'What language are we speaking right now?'

Mai shrugged. It wasn't something she considered. It felt natural, and she and Naru had always spoken Japanese together in the past, so she'd just assumed… but… 'English?'

He released his hold on her and sat back in his chair. 'We need to get you in for testing. It isn't every day that SPR gets to study a mentally challenged linguist.'

Was it really her fault that she was sprouting new gifts like… like… like things that sprout often? Sometimes Naru could be so petty in his jokes. 'You're just as mean as Gene.'

'Most people say I'm meaner.'

Mai rolled her eyes to the ceiling. 'Most people don't know Gene,' she said. 'Or you, for that matter.'

Naru shifted uncomfortably. 'I don't have time for silly conversation.'

'This isn't silly.' But Mai knew that in the current situation it was a silly conversation. They needed to concentrate on formulating a plan. 'What are your options?' she asked again.

Naru hesitated for a moment but eventually flipped open his notebook again and said in a business-like voice, 'I can fly back to Scotland and deal with Phillipe face-to-face.'

Mai wrinkled her nose. 'Deal with a brain dead guy face-to-face? That seems like a waste of time and energy and money for flights.'

'I agree.' Naru scribbled something in his notebook. 'Plus I don't want to wait around until you are able to travel.'

Mai was taken aback. 'You want me to go with you?'

'I can't leave you alone,' he said, not even bothering to look up. She was about to admit that it was the nicest thing he'd ever said to her, but he continued, 'You'd probably get yourself and everyone else killed.'

'I'm going to pretend you didn't say that last bit.'

'Selective hearing has always been one of your stronger gifts.'

'Selective…?' Mai huffed. 'So what are the other options—besides hopping on a flight to Scotland?'

Naru smirked at her, and she flushed again. She'd gone and proved his point about selective hearing. He knew her better than anyone still living in the world—better than most dead people too. It was crazy. Here he was teasing her terribly, and it was the happiest she'd been in a very long time.

'There may be another option,' he said once his face returned to his usual stony façade, '… but it won't work unless you speak to Ayako again.'

Mai blinked with confusion.

'Yes, _you_. Either convince her to let me be discharged—'

'What about not leaving me!'

'There is no need for histrionics, Mai—you make it sound like I'm reneging on a marriage proposal.'

He was right, of course, but still his words robbed the breath from her lungs. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. Just because Mai was happy working with him on the case did not mean he felt the same way. How could he? 'Of course you want to be discharged. I'll… I'll just…' Mai pushed back the blanket and swung her legs off the bed. The movement triggered piercing misery through her cracked ribcage, but she gritted her teeth against the welling whimpers.

'What are you doing?'

The linoleum floor burned cold against her bare feet—making her flush of pain feel even more blistering. '… talk to Ayako,' she said breathily. '… get a Kit Kat too. Always like… Kit Kats….'

'Get back in bed,' Naru said, pressing a hand against her shoulder.

'… if I can get myself to… to the loo… I can get… to the nurses' station… and… the vending machine… just you keep… considering your options…'

'_Stop.'_ One hand still pressed firmly to her shoulder, he used the other to cup the side of her head. His hands were fine boned but large—strong and slim like a pianist's. 'I will get Matsuzaki. You will not get out of this bed.'

What else could she do? She didn't have the strength to stand, let alone walk out of the room. Mai nodded.

Naru released her like her consent scalded him. He tucked his hands deep into this robe's pockets and marched out of the room.

Mai eased back into bed, breathing hard against the pain. She leaned back and closed her eyes. It was odd, spending so much time with Naru. Sometimes it felt normal, natural, like nothing had changed—and other times it was just so much more intense. It wasn't just what she'd been through—it was something to do with Naru. Like the death of his brother had been a facade she'd viewed him through, and now with Gene buried, she could see the very real ramparts that he'd built around himself. They were sliding ramparts, and he moved them skilfully to block most intrusions, but what had Gene said about Naru's shields? Yes, _Gene was Naru's shield_. Without Gene, Naru was vulnerable. That vulnerability created the oddity in their relationship—because his attempts to hide it from her were paltry and insubstantial.

Mai closed her eyes for a long moment. When she opened them again, Ayako sat in the chair that Mai had come to think of as _Naru's_. Bruises darkened the skin beneath her eyes.

'I shouldn't give you this,' she said, handing Mai a Kit Kat. Her fingers were white and shaking.

Instead of taking the candy bar, Mai grasped Ayako's hand. 'Was it a terrible dream?'

Ayako tried to laugh it off, saying 'Probably nothing compared to what you've been through' but her voice trailed off at the end, and she had to wet her lips before she continued. 'Bricks. I… um… I dreamed about having my hands smashed by bricks.'

'He did that to me too,' Mai said, gently squeezing Ayako's hand. 'The numbness goes away after a while. Maybe he's not as original as I thought he was.'

'It was a disciplinary tactic used at the orphanage by….' Naru's voice trailed off, but Mai didn't need him to finish the sentence. It was something the bad man, Pitt, had done to the children.

'They smashed your hands with bricks?' Ayako gasped.

'Not smashed. The bricks were piled one by one on top of a person's hands—the number of bricks depended on how large the rule infraction had been….' And Kennel Boy was smashing hands because of the action Naru had taken against Pitt. Killing Pitt was the biggest rule infraction possible.

Mai wanted to tell Naru that it wasn't his fault—but how could she? He clearly didn't want anyone else to know.

'Mai would like to ask you something,' Naru prompted.

Nodding and trying not to tear up, Mai said to Ayako, 'Would you please discharge Naru?'

'I'm not a doctor here, Mai. I don't have that power—and even if I did, both of you need to remain here for treatment. You both sustained significant injuries.'

Mai looked over Naru—sure his movements were a little stiff—but he didn't _look_ as bad as she did. 'Mai,' Naru prompted again.

'I know you said _no_ before, but would you consider letting Lin back in the hospital?' Mai begged. 'I know that's something that you can do. You are the one that had him barred.'

Ayako shook her head. 'He's a danger to you, Mai. I won't have him near you again. Do you understand what he did—'

'He's scared!' Mai interrupted with desperation. 'He's scared that Madoka will be attacked and lose the baby. You have to understand—'

'What I understand is that his actions could have _killed you_.' Ayako gripped Mai's arm. 'Do you understand what that means?'

'Jeez, Ayako, I don't know. I'd be dead?'

'Don't you dare say such a thing in that flippant tone of yours. Don't you dare.' Ayako shook Mai's arm, causing them both to flinch. 'Do you know what kind of hell that would put us through? Do you even care?'

Mai held her arm protectively close to her body and wished that her other limb was not so damaged and that she could massage where Ayako's grip had pinched her. 'Of course I care. I don't want you to be sad.'

'_Sad? Sad_! Do you honestly believe that your death would make me _sad_?'

Frowning at the enraged miko, Mai said, 'Um… put out?'

'Put. Out.' Ayako slowly got to her feet. 'If I died, would _you_ be _put out_?'

Perhaps those hadn't been the best choice of words. Mai tried to back-pedal furiously. 'If you died, I would… I would… I'd be _devastated_.'

'And how would my death be any different from your own?'

'I'm… I'm…' Mai hastily looked to Naru for a little help, but his expression was closed and cold, and his jaw ticked.

'You are _what, Mai_?' he asked, disappointment tingeing his words heavily. This was not how this discussion was supposed to go. She was supposed to convince Ayako to discharge Naru or let Lin have access to the hospital. She'd cocked things up royally. _What was she_?

Stupid. Incompetent. The cause of so many problems for so many people. Hopeless. Trouble. Alone.

Ayako mistook her silence. 'Exactly, there is no different between you and me. So you can hardly blame me for barring Lin from the hospital.'

'Please, Ayako. Naru needs Lin here. ' Tears streamed down her face. 'You can put security outside my door so that Lin can't come inside. Just please. Naru _needs_ Lin to weigh out the options. I can't help him with this—only Lin can. So please...'

'You put her up to this,' Ayako growled at Naru. 'She'd fragile, and you've put her up to this.'

'Please, Ayako. Please. Please. Please.'

'If that onmyouji even looks at Mai—no, if he even comes into this ward, I'll kill him myself—'

'Ayako!'

'Mai, I know in my heart of hearts that your mom would not want Lin anywhere near you, not after what he did, and so I'm only doing what needs to be done in her stead.'

'_But that's not your job!' _Mai's voice broke. She tried to draw in deep, calming breaths, but the pain in her ribs caused her to gasp her words inside._ '_My mom is… and you're… and I'm an adult. And while I appreciate that you… I am telling you…. Let Lin into the building. If I don't blame Lin for putting my life at risk, than you cannot either. It is my life to do as I please.'

Ayako shook her head in disgust and strode to the door. 'That attitude contributes heavily to why the doctors will not discharge you any time soon. You are not thinking clearly.'

'But you aren't a doctor,' Naru said, his words cutting off Ayako's exit. 'You have no control over when a patient is discharged or not.'

'You are playing dangerous games,' she said to Naru.

'I conduct myself according to necessity. If you cannot accept this, you may be dismissed from this case, Matsuzaki-san.'

'Over my dead body,' she growled.

'We will do our utmost to close this case without the creation of any further cadavers,' Naru said. 'However in order for us to ensure that, I must be allowed access to Lin either by your discharging me or by you allowing Lin to enter the hospital again.'

Once again Naru succeeded where Mai had failed.

...

'Stay with her,' Naru said, adding another book to the pile he'd created on the wheelchair's seat. 'Do not leave her alone until I return.'

'Got it,' Bou-san said. 'But where are you going with that wheelchair?'

'I'm meeting Lin in the cafeteria—that's the furthest he's allowed into the hospital.'

Bou-san pointed to the wheelchair. 'Do you honestly think Ayako will allow you to use hospital equipment as your personal bookmobile?'

'Matsuzaki will simply have to add this to her list of disapprovals.'

'This team is falling apart at the seams,' Bou-san groaned.

'Mai, you are not to get out of bed,' Naru ordered, and Mai opened her mouth automatically to sass him with a question like _what if there is a fire?_ Naru flicked his eyebrow before she could get the words out. 'If there is cause for evacuation, you will wait patiently in bed until I come to collect you.' Mai's need to retort faded as he made a show of placing his mobile phone into the pocket of his robe. He nodded gravely at Bou-san before he pushed the book-laden wheelchair out of Mai's room.

'Naru is becoming quite the romantic,' Bou-san laughed before wearily taking a seat beside Mai's bed.

'If that's what you consider romantic, I feel bad for Ayako,' Mai said and then immediately felt awful. Ayako hadn't come back into Mai's room since they'd fought over Lin's expulsion. 'Is she…?'

'What you said really hurt her.'

'_But Naru needed_—'

'Cruel manipulation, no matter your reasoning, is not the way to treat people that you care about. She loves you like a daughter, and you threw that in her face.'

'But I'm not her daughter. I'm nobody's daughter. Nobody's family.'

'I thought SPR was your family. You used to say as much.'

'I did. Before I had to face reality, I did think that—and it was lovely. It was the happiest and safest I've felt since…. But the truth is, we aren't blood related. And you are all such good people. And I'm….'

'And you are what, Mai?'

'Too much trouble.'

'Who told you that?'

'Everyone.'

'Have I ever told you that?'

'Yes.'

Bou-san shook his head.

'_Yes_.'

'If I did, I didn't mean it. I said it out of frustration.' Mai refused to look at him, even when he added, 'Can you tell me when my Mai disappeared? Sometimes I think I catch a glimpse of her, but then….'

'Then it is just me,' she finished for him. 'I think she started disappearing long before she ever met you. Slipping away, bit by bit, until all that's left is the numbness and the fear.'

'And inexorable love and bravery.'

'Just fear.'

'When this is over, you won't need to be scared anymore,' he tried to reassure her.

'Sometimes I wonder if I need to be scared now. What's the point?'

'The point is that you have been put through _hell_, but when this is all over, you'll see that we are here and we love you and _you aren't too much trouble_. I'm not a doctor. I'm not a psychologist. But I'm pretty sure you're suffering from depression and anxiety. Maybe even post-traumatic stress.'

Mai snorted. '_Post-_traumatic? Naru hasn't even solved the case yet.'

'Like I said, I'm not a medical expert. All I can tell you is that we love you. We love you very much. When this case is over, we aren't going to go away again. We should never have left you alone like we did.'

Mai wanted to believe him so badly—but it hurt too much. 'You keep saying _we_.'

'Yeah… perhaps this is a little premature since I haven't actually mentioned it to that old miko yet… but I'm thinking it is time Ayako and I stopped beating around the bush and just made things official.'

Mai whipped her head around to stare at the monk. 'Like marriage?'

'Something like that,' he murmured, taking a sip of coffee.

Mai furrowed her brow. 'I never knew _beating around the bush_ was a euphemism for sex. I guess it makes sense. Beating. Bush.'

Bou-san spewed coffee across the room. 'What did those people at the night club teach you?'

'It wasn't as bad as you think—working there. Mostly. It was hard, but not bad.'

Bou-san wearily mopped up his face and shirt with a tissue. 'And I'm sure there is a long and complicated story about how you wound up working there—one full of good intentions and whores with hearts of gold—but I'm not sure this old man can handle hearing it right now.'

'It isn't very interesting anyway.'

'I find just about everything you do _interesting_, Mai. _Interesting_ and peculiar….' His words trailed off with a huge yawn.

'But you haven't slept in…?'

'A long time.'

Mai took a spare charm from her bedside table. 'Why don't you put this on and take a nap?' Bou-san hesitated. 'I promise not to get out of bed and you'll be right here with me, just like Naru directed.'

It took a little more insisting on Mai's part, but exhaustion ate away at the monk. Finally he slumped in the chair and closed his eyes. The spare charm was draped around his neck.

He slept peacefully at first. His chest rising and falling with each deep, measured breath. A doctor and a few nurses one by one popped their heads into the room to check that everything was all right, and each time Mai waved them away.

Mai kept replaying their conversation in her mind. She wanted to believe what Bou-san said. She wanted to believe she was loved. She believed that he loved some ideal version of her—the version that she'd made up and played so convincingly during the height of SPR's cases. But that wasn't her, not really. That was someone she'd aspired to be. That was a Mai that didn't really exist. Had never really existed. She didn't know how to tell him that—not without hurting him. The familiar symptoms of a panic attack clenched at her chest. Her heart felt like a flock of birds preparing to take flight.

Where was Gene? Gene was always so good at calming the panic. He was the only one that saw the real Mai. He was the only one that was honest enough to tell her that he liked her _sometimes_. But as seemed to be typical since Naru's appearance, Gene was gone. Gene was distracted. And Mai was alone.

It was funny how she held Naru to a double standard. Naru could disappear, leave her, sit beside her and think of everything except her, and that was kind of okay. Sort of all right. She didn't begrudge him those actions. In an odd way, she loved them. She couldn't feel the same about Gene, though. Perhaps Masako was right to call him her pet-ghost. Mai felt a sort of ownership over Gene that wasn't natural. And so, once again, Mai's feelings were in the wrong.

But still, where was Gene? What was he doing?

Bou-san flinched but continued to sleep. The charm around his neck was wearing off. Mai could see it as clearly as she'd seen it in the dreamscape—the paper was becoming brittle and yellows and cracked. She wondered if anyone else could notice it, or whether it was yet another one of those tiny gifts that made up her _amalgamation_ of psychic powers, as Naru had so eloquently put it. Bou-san moaned.

Mai reached out to place a calming hand on his arm, but he cringed and drew himself out of her reach. His breath was quick and shallow. Sweat drenched his face.

'Bou-san,' Mai said, shifting a little to try and get closer to him. 'Bou-san, it is time for you to wake up.'

He mewled. It was a horrible sound. And then he began to thrash.

Mai swung her legs over the bed and scooted forward. 'Bou-san, wake up.' She wasn't sure what to do. In her current condition, she couldn't exactly subdue him—and while Ayako had smacked her across the face plenty of times to wake her up, Mai doubted that would be the best course of action with a person twice her size.

Finally she grabbed him by the arm and yelled his name.

He stopped instantly and his body went limp, like a marionette doll with cut strings.

'Bou-san?' Mai whispered, her legs wobbling as she leaned over him.

His eyes popped open, focused and gleeful. 'Hello, Mai.'

She tried to jerk back, but Bou-san's hand gripped her by the elbow.

'Must be brief, but I just wanted to let you know,' Kennel Boy said with Bou-san's voice.

'Let me know what?' she whispered.

'That I'm making progress. Please do tell Lin that Madoka and the baby are an absolute delight.'

'You leave them alone.'

'Are you feeling left out?'

'They have nothing to do with this. If you want revenge for what Naru did to Pitt, you need to take that up with Naru—leave Madoka and the baby, leave everyone else out of it.'

'Tricksy, tricksy girl,' he bit out. 'You know _nothing_.'

'I know that Naru thinks you are a traumatised, pathetic, mentally deranged little boy. I know that he is wrong. You aren't crazy. You're evil.'

'That doesn't put you in a good bartering position, does it?'

'I don't need to barter,' she gritted out, fisting the Buddha locket in her good hand. She slammed it against Bou-san's chest and spun a protective shield that engulfed her and then pressed against Bou-san.

Kennel Boy fought for a hold on Bou-san's body. While he did not seem to possess the dexterity to grasp her energy and redirect the power as he had done in the past, he did seem to stand strong against the buffering of energy.

Mai drew a breath too deep for her cracked ribs, and sharp glass seemed to stab through her chest—but still she pushed harder. Focusing all the aura and chi that she could spare into a single shield that pressed forward unrelentingly.

A cool hand splayed across her stomach, and a warm body moulded against her back. Another aura fed into her own, and her shield jumped forward, spreading a good metre in radius, and Kennel Boy was swept away with the wave of power.

'Why are you out of bed?' Naru grumbled in her ear.

'He threatened Madoka and the baby.'

'That does not answer my question. Why are you out of bed?'

'Because I never listen to you.' Mai turned slowly in Naru's arms and stared up at him. 'We need to do something about this _now_.'

From deep within his jacket's inside pocket, Naru retrieved a small pouch. He held it between them, not quite offering it to Mai, as he explained, 'It's what Lin has been working on. This is why it was so important that I speak to him face-to-face. Lin has given us a potential solution.' Naru opened the pouch and allowed the contents to slide into Mai's hand.

'A hitogata.' A wooden effigy doll with complex letters etched deep into the grain. She'd never seen one quite so intricately made.

'For Pitt.' His voice quivered slightly, and his jaw ticked. 'Lin didn't want to make it at first. He didn't… doesn't understand. But I think we can get Etienne to move on if he knows he'll be with Pitt again.'

'Will he be with Pitt again?'

Naru closed his eyes. 'The only thing that matters is that _he thinks_ he'll be reunited with Pitt. Maybe then he'll move on. But there's a problem with this plan.'

'Kennel Boy isn't stupid,' Mai whispered.

'No, he is not.'

'Kennel Boy won't be as easily tricked as the earth-bound spirit of Oshima Hiro. Showing her a hitogata of her daughter, Tomiko, was enough to get her to move on.' Mai sighed as deeply as her cracked ribbed would allow. 'But if we do the same with Kennel Boy—summon him and then invoke the hitogata—he'll know what we're doing. He'll know it isn't really Pitt.'

Naru nodded and opened his eyes. 'And it will only anger him more.'

They needed to trick Kennel Boy into believing the hitogata truly was Pitt. They'd never get away with that if they summoned him. However…. Mai's heart thundered as a fresh idea sparked in her mind. 'What if I take it to Kennel Boy?' The wood bit into her hand as she fisted the effigy. 'What if I trace it with me? I know Kennel Boy's name now—I should be able to find him in the ether. What if I trace the hitogata, find him, and set him up to believe it is Pitt?'

Naru gently prised the effigy from her hand. 'Lin has made this hitogata to be invoked by _me_—' He clenched his jaw. When he spoke again, his voice came out in a harsh whisper. 'It will be a more realistic, stronger impression of Pitt because I knew him. Because our lives are inexorably entangled. Because I am Pitt's killer.'

Tears welled in her eyes and she shook her head furiously. 'Naru—'

'No matter how much you want to believe that I am innocent of this action….' Naru lifted his chin in stare over her head, but he closed his eyes. 'You cannot change the past, Mai.'

'Have Lin make another one,' she whispered desperately. 'Have him make one that I can invoke. I'll take it into the ether. I'll find him in the dreamscape.'

'No.'

Mai nodded desperately. _Yes. _Taking the hitogata into the dreamscape was the one thing she could do for Naru. The one thing no one else could do. And also the one thing no one would allow her to do. Bou-san would stop her. Ayako would strap her to the hospital bed before she allowed Mai to enact such a dangerous plan. But it was the only way. They'd have to move fast and be stealthy. Lin would have to be quick about making a new hitogata.

'I _can_ do this,' she spoke softly and glance furtively at Bou-san's sleeping form. 'Get Lin to make a hitogata that I can invoke, and I'll trace it into the dreamscape. I'll take care of everything. You don't have to see Pitt again.'

'_No.'_

'_Please, _Naru. I just want this to end. Let me end it,' she said, desperately tugging at his shirt.

Finally he looked at her again. 'This is not something you can do alone.'

'_Fine. Come with me_.' She could do it on her own, but if he needed to face off against Kennel Boy—if he needed to deal with his own ghosts—then she could at least give him that. 'I can trace you with me. You and the hitogata.' They could end this together.

Naru did not seem to breathe for a long moment. When he finally spoke, it was in a thin and reluctant voice, 'Lin is concerned that your gift for tracing has not developed enough for you to trace another person's spirit.'

So this had been the plan all along. Mai gnawed on her lips. This was the option that Naru had been so reluctant to share with her. And now Naru was asking her if she could do it. Lin even thought Mai was not strong enough, but he'd still made the hitogata for Naru.

The case had reached the breaking point. They either needed to act immediately or let Kennel Boy win—that was what Naru's bleak expression told her.

'I nearly traced Kennel Boy once, but because his body was not nearby, he had nowhere to go—that's when he tried to burst out of my back. So….' Mai drew a shuddering breath. 'The answer to your question is, _I can do it_. But I don't think it is a good option.'

'You going alone is not a good option.' There was no arguing with him when he used that tone. 'We can't let this drag out any further. Are you sure you can manage this?'

Mai straightened her shoulders, but wobbled in the process. As close as they stood, Mai brushed against Naru, and he cupped her elbow to steady her. 'I can take you with me as… as easily as I take the Buddha locket with me every time I dream. Getting you there isn't the problem.' She shivered with apprehension. This plan had all the makings to go totally wrong. 'After you use the hitogata to convince Kennel Boy to move on, I'll just trace you back to the earthly plane and you can climb back into your body. Yes?'

Naru looked down at her for a long time. He seemed to be examining her for any excuse to reject his own proposed option. Standing straighter and hardening her face with determination, she returned his gaze without flinching or betraying her doubt—and she had doubts.

The plan could turn sour in an instant. All Kennel Boy needed was to catch a glimpse of Naru within the ether or the dreamscape, and any hope of successfully using the hitogata would cease to exist.

Mai knew Naru was thinking the same thing. She could see the scales shifting this way and that behind his eyes. 'Okay,' he finally said.

'Shall I trace you now?'

'You need more rest.'

'We don't have that kind of luxury—plus when will we have a better opportunity than this?' She looked pointedly at Bou-san's sleeping form. He shifted and grumbled. 'Neither Bou-san nor Ayako will agree to the plan. They'll separate us if they catch wind of it. Right now neither of them are in a position to foil our plan.' Naru looked as though he'd continue to protest, and so she grabbed his arm with her uninjured hand. '_Think about it, Naru_. Kennel Boy won't expect us to seek him out so soon—not after we've just driving him from Bou-san's body. We have to do this _now._'

Naru nodded grimly. 'I don't like it, but… for once I can't fault your logic.'

'I'll mark this day on my calendar,' she said, nudging him over so that he was sitting on the bed. 'The day the great Dr Oliver Davis couldn't fault my logic.'

'Or rather the day you showed signs of any logic at all,' he taunted, but his words fell flat beneath the tension.

Mai never acknowledged his words as she positioned herself beside him. She took the hitogata and tucked it against her cast. Her fingers wrapped around the little wooden doll. She placed her uninjured arm on Naru's shoulder and gently grasped his face so that her fingers were against his temples. He placed his hands loosely around her waist.

Leaning in and tipping her head back, she whispered, 'Here goes nothing.' And then she pressed her lips against Naru's.


	32. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

_Naru sucked in a breath, his lips moving softly against Mai's, before he pulled away. 'Was that necessary?'_

__'Probably not,' _M__ai murmured, and a rush of heat stole over her body.__ What had she been thinking, kissing Naru? Clearly she hadn't been thinking at all. Nothing new there. But she must've been crazy to think she could just kiss him and not suffer the consequences. _She couldn't even look at him_. And so s__he __glanced timidly around at the will o' the wisps of the ether before adding,__ 'Well, at least we both made it here.' If the ether could even be called a _here_. It was both a vast space of nothingness and churning crush of fox fires. It was the very fabric on which dreamscapes were embroidered. _

_Naru remained silent for a long moment, and Mai feared he was going to continue questioning her about the kiss, but in the end he merely enquired, _'_Is this where you usually come?'_

'_Not usually,' she said, her voice still unsettled. 'Mostly I'm sucked directly into a dreamscape.' She'd only ever discussed this topic with Gene, and he'd been able to describe it better than she could. 'It feels like someone's hooked you behind the bellybutton and you haven't got a choice where you go or how fast. To end up in the ether and not get blown around like a plastic bag in the wind, you've got to have some direction and control.'_

'_You sound like my brother.'_

_His disgruntled tone made Mai smirk, and she finally relaxed enough to quip, 'I'm a good student.'_

_Naru lifted an eyebrow, but instead of retorting, he asked, 'How do we find—'_

'_Hush.' If he started talking now, she'd never be able to concentrate. She could barely look away for his mouth when he wasn't being all sexy and analytical. Sexy and analytical? Ugg. She must've truly lost her mind. It was his fault. He shouldn't smell so good. Like tea and oranges and warm skin. _

_'Are we just going to hover here and hug all day?'_

_Another wave of heated embarrassment washed over her. 'We aren't hugging. I'm holding on to you so that you don't disappear into the ether. I recommend that you don't let go of me either. No matter what happens. If you let go, there is no guarantee that I'll be able to catch hold of you again__—and without me, you have no chance of tracing back to your body.'_

_Naru's arms tightened around her and pressed her hard against his side. Other than the stuttering of her heart, the movement did not aggravate any injuries. In fact—Mai glanced down at herself—she seemed relatively unhurt. Her ribs and hip did not ache. Her cast was gone, and she clutched the hitogata with steady hands._

_'Back to my earlier question_—_ '_

_'Let me worry about finding Kennel Boy without tipping him off that we're here,' she interrupted, and for once Naru did not argue. _

_I__t was a good sign that they hadn't been pulled off somewhere already. Mai had a theory about that. When Endo had been bleeding out in the basement, he'd called Kennel Boy a plastic bag in the ether. John had said that 'dusii' were creators of night terrors. Perhaps the relationship Endo and Kennel Boy shared had more to do with Endo's abilities to generate dreamscapes. Perhaps Kennel Boy was as Gene called him: a piggybacker. He'd certainly piggybacked on her marathon dreams. And the kennel room dreamscapes had clearly belonged to Endo. But without Mai's marathon dreams and Endo's night terror weaving, where would Kennel Boy go?_

_That was why he'd needed Endo's books. He'd needed to learn how Endo controlled dreamscapes. And now that Kennel Boy knew, he was able to torment anyone close to Naru._

_So where would he go when he wasn't tormenting someone?_

'_Is there a problem?' Naru asked._

'_Be quiet. I'm trying to feel him out.' Mai drew in several deep breaths and tried to imagine her aura spreading out like antennae. 'Where would he be most comfortable?'_

_Naru watched her speculatively—which wasn't helping her concentrate—before he murmured darkly, 'You said you'd been to the kitchen at Hadley Children's Home.'_

_That made sense. Etienne Phillipe had manifested as his eight-year-old self, and his eight-year-old self had lived at the orphanage. 'You are a genius.'_

'_Nice of you to have noticed.'_

'_Be quiet and hold on tight,' she said, and his arm squeezed around her. If they weren't floating around like astronauts in space, she'd have called their position _snuggling_. Steadying her nerves, she admitted, 'I'm not very good at the getting to-and-from part of the ether-to-dreamscape _thing_.'_

'"_To-and-From Thing"?'_

'_I'm sure there is a fancy word for it.'_

'_I'm sure there is too,' he said, a smirk buried deep in his voice._

'_If you aren't quiet, we'll never be able to sneak up on him.'_

_Mai wondered how Superman managed to fly around with Lois Lane all the time—how didn't he bump into buildings and birds and other obstacle? For sure, if there had been anything more substantial than will o' the wisps in her way, she'd have killed both Naru and herself. Maybe it had to do with how Superman carried Lois—bridal style—but there was no way Naru would let Mai tote him around in such a manner, and so she kept him clutched to her side and mentally limped toward the memory of the orphanage kitchen. Gloomy and utilitarian._

_They were sitting on the gritty tiled floor beside the refrigerator before Mai could blink. Moulding boxes were stacked beneath the large, industrial countertops, and they cast thick shadows that cloaked Mai and Naru well. An open doorway, however, illuminated the other side of the kitchen, through which shined a cold, white light. The brightness reflected harshly off a small stand of folding chairs._

_Unlike her previous visits to the orphanage kitchen, silence radiated from the rooms beyond. Even the memory of children seemed to have been burned away._

_Naru's grip on Mai's side tightened. His lips were compressed, his eyes larger than normal. Distant._

_What could she say to him? It seemed foolish and foolhardy to tell him that the dreamscape wasn't real. The place was real to Naru—even if it was only in his memory. And the more real the dreamscape seemed, the more dangerous it became._

_Mai unfurled her hand from the hitogata. How did she turn the wooden doll into a visual representation of Pitt?_

_Naru took it from her, his hands trembling slightly, and held it up. Under his breath he whispered Pitt's full name and the dates of his birth and death._

_A yellow flame consumed the hitogata, burning wider and taller until it revealed the form of a ferrety man. Naru jerked, dropping the hitogata, and the image of Pitt stood apart from them, surveying the kitchen with a slow and careful gaze. He wandered away from them, aimlessly drifting between the steel counters._

_Mai didn't dare to breath, didn't dare to look away for fear that the mirage would shatter into corpse candles. They'd succeeded in the plan. Mai'd traced an illusion of Pitt to the dreamscape. What now?_

_Naru gripped her arm._

'_This is curious.' Kennel Boy stood in the doorway—Mai still couldn't bring herself to think of him as Etienne Phillipe. Somehow that suggested that she'd be underestimating him. 'I never figured to see you here.'_

_The illusion of Pitt only blinked at Kennel Boy._

_Kennel Boy dropped the bag he was holding onto the floor. It clanked. Like glass jars knocking together. 'Have you come to help me move on, Pitt?'_

_The illusion of Pitt held out a hand._

'_Honestly, Noll. An effigy? A mere poppet?' Kennel Boy drew a long needle from thin air and jabbed at Pitt. The illusion burst like a balloon of light. 'Pop.'_

_Mai gripped Naru tighter. This had been a foolish idea from the start. She needed to trace Naru out of the dreamscape._

'_Do you genuinely think this is all about Pitt?' He never raised his voice, but it echoed deep into every crevice of the kitchen. 'Our little game in Edinburgh, that was about Pitt.'_

_Naru stood slowly despite Mai's attempts to keep him hidden in the shadows. 'The events of this past summer were not a game.'_

_Kennel Boy turned leisurely to face Naru and shrugged in concession. 'Well, it wasn't a particularly _good_ game,' he said, tugging a curled book from the pocket of his hoodie. _

_It was one of Endo's diaries—rolled into a tube and with the binding broken. He tossed it on the nearest folding chair, where it flopped like a battered toy. The pages were dog-eared, passages annotated and highlighted, and margins doodled upon with the blocked words _DIE OLIVER DIE. _The letters had been carved with the vicious lashings of a pen—and while Mai knew that the raw fury should scare her, her gut told her that Kennel Boy was facing some serious library fines for vandalising the text._

'_By my calculations, it should have been brilliant. But then Gene had to cock things up by croaking. I made a valiant go of it anyway—you can't deny me that.' Kennel Boy nattered on as though he'd never watched an episode of _Scooby Doo_. Didn't he know that villains who prattle are villains who are easily caught? _

_Clearly aware of this simple principle, Naru just stood there watching—waiting._

_Kennel Boy attempted to target the obvious nerves. 'However, I was appalled to find out that the great Dr. Oliver Davis does _not _possess Holmes-esque observation skills.'_

_Naru narrowed his gaze but held his tongue._

_Kennel Boy pointed his finger as though suddenly remembering something. Dragging another folding chair over to a set of high cabinets, he flung open the double doors to reveal a Punch and Judy puppet theatre very similar to the one that had been in the street festival dreamscape. From behind her wall of moulding boxes, Mai shivered as she watched the theatre curtain waver as though a set crew scrambled around behind it._

'_What I find truly the most bothersome is that I'd bait my trap so well, and yet…' Kennel Boy gestured up at the makeshift theatre._

_The curtain drew up to reveal two puppets, one an older gentlemen in a tweed jacket and the other a youthful man in a blue jacket. The puppet in the blue jacket held a bat behind its back._

_In shrill, comedic voices, Kennel Boy provided the dialogue for the puppet show:_

'"_Welcome to BSPR! I am Professor Martin Davis, father of the most brilliant Dr. Oliver Davis.'" The tweedy-wearing puppet swished around the stage. It opened its arms wide and gestured to the blue-jacketed puppet. '"I haven't bothered looking at your membership application, but please do come join us for a conference where my splendid son shall prattle on for hours about absolutely nothing." _

'"_I am Etienne Phillipe—no relation to Stephen Phillip, adopted child of the man your son killed. It would be my pleasure to reacquaint myself with your murdering bastard of a son." Whack!' The puppet in the blue jacket bludgeoned Martin the Puppet with the bat._

_Wheels squeaked, and the theatre's backdrop changed to a silhouette of Edinburgh's skyline. A set of two-dimensional stairs flew in from the wings. _

'"_And now my trap is set. Now I need only lure Oliver here to save you before I exact my revenge for Pitt's death! I will take from Oliver his most precious possession! His father! Ha ha ha! An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth!'" Etienne the Puppet walloped Martin the Puppet several more times before dashing off stage, laughing manically. _

_Martin fell into a faint and disappeared. The stairs retracted into the wings._

_A desk popped up, and behind it sat a puppet in black. In one hand he held a notebook and in the other hand he held a piece of yellow paper. The puppet seemed torn between which object to examine, and in the end he collapsed into a fit of sighs._

_Etienne rushed onto stage, his blue jacket now replaced by a floppy blue hoodie. '"Oliver, your father is missing!"'_

_Oliver the Puppet sighed._

'"_Did you hear me? Someone has kidnapped your father!"'_

_Oliver sighed again._

_Etienne took out his bat and bashed Oliver about the head. '"Your most precious father is missing! Where is your head, you moron?"'_

'"_Tokyo."' Oliver thrashed about with the yellow paper over his head._

'"_Idiot."' Etienne hit Oliver on the head one more time before dragging him upstage. The stairs flew in again. '"You wait here while I start a fire.'" Etienne dropped Oliver and bounded up and then down the stairs._

_Martin the Puppet sprang up from beneath the stage. '"My super son will save me!'"_

'"_Not before I burn you both alive!"' Etienne produced a red watering can. He splashed liquid all over Martin and the stage before rushing up and down the stairs again laughing like a loon._

'"_Quickly! Your father is in the basement!'" Etienne loped around with excitement while Oliver once again held up the yellow paper and sighed. '"Your father is going to die if you don't hurry!"'_

_Finally Oliver tucked the paper into his notebook and leisurely moseyed up and then down the stairs. Martin threw himself upon Oliver, who once again had removed the yellow paper and began to sigh._

_Etienne the Puppet cackled and performed a trick very much like The Match Magician, but the puppet produced a matchstick that stood twice his height. He struck it against the stage, and the entire set went up in flames. Martin threw Oliver over his shoulder and toted him up and then down the stairs. _

_Oliver then grabbed the bat and walloped Etienne until he fell into the flames, after which Oliver shrugged. "Oops."' Father and son walked away as the theatre collapsed._

_Naru's hands were shaking. His breathing was fast and shallow. 'Your puppet show is pointless.'_

'_I may have glazed over a few sticky points, but I hardly think it is pointless,' Kennel Boy said, climbing back on the folding chair and closing the cabinets. 'I'm sure little Mai enjoyed the show. It isn't the first time I've shown her one where you killed someone. What does that make me? Victim number three? Me. Pitt. Your biological mother.'_

_Trembling, Mai stood up beside Naru and clutched his arm. The last thing she wanted was for Naru to lose control again. 'Naru didn't kill you,' she said through gritted teeth. 'You killed yourself with your own homicidal stupidity.'_

_Kennel Boy laughed. 'She is just so plucky. Super-dooper plucky. Cheerful as a slip of yellow paper. Is that why you fell in love with her, Oliver?' Naru opened his mouth to speak, but Kennel Boy continued on relentlessly. 'The Whys and Hows of it don't really matter—only that I'm going to take her from you. Martin may not have been your most precious thing, but Mai certainly is. And it has been ever so thrilling, playing with her.'_

_Naru edged forward. 'Killing Mai will not bring Pitt back.'_

'_Pitt?' The folding chair scraped across the floor as Kennel Boy dragged it to the nearest counter. 'I don't give a shit about Pitt anymore.'_

'_That's sensible of you. Pitt never cared about any of us. Not you. Not Gene and me.' Naru pitched his tone matter-of-factly, but tremors of history seemed to reverberate from his body. 'We were psychic tools for Pitt to exploit. A way for him to control his crime ring. You to torture people into submission with your gift for giving visions. Me to read people's histories when they lied to Pitt. Gene to speak to the ghosts of his victims. All he ever cared about was what we could do for him. You should forget about Pitt and move on. Accept it. Forget about this "an eye for an eye" call for revenge—'_

_Kennel Boy climbed up on the chair and leaned across the counter. 'Pitt is the past. This game is about how you have trapped me in the ether.'_

'_You have done that to yourself,' Naru gritted out._

'_You put me here,' Kennel Boy said, 'and now you lovers are going to get me out.'_

'_Like hell we will.'_

'_Little Mai will help me.' Kennel Boy switched his gaze to Mai, smiling slowly as though they shared a secret. 'You'll help me again, won't you, little Mai?'_

_Naru held out an arm. 'Stay behind me.'_

'_I'm going to trace you out of here,' she whispered, grasping the back of Naru's shirt tight._

_Kennel Boy leaped over the counter. 'Yes, trace us.'_

_She jerked back, stumbling against the refrigerator. The connection between Mai and Naru was severed._

_Mai reached for Naru, but Kennel Boy flung his arms wide and the tiled floor rippled between them. A steel counter juddered and upturned toward Naru. He braced himself, focusing his gaze on the oncoming projectile, and were they in reality, a wave of PK energy would have knocked the counter aside._

_In Kennel Boy's dreamscape, it beat Naru back and pinned him against the wall. Shock registered on his face, and Kennel Boy paused to laugh._

_With his attention centred elsewhere, Mai scooted behind another counter. It was a gamble because she was while she was putting distance between herself and the wee sociopath, she was also moving further away from Naru._

'_Where do you think you're going?' Kennel Boy whipped around to face Mai._

_Naru wedged his hands against the counter and pushed—metal scraped against the tiled floor._

'_Tricksy, tricksy.' Kennel Boy glanced back at Naru and lifted a hand. The counter pressed harder against the wall, crushing Naru. 'If you keep moving around, Mai, I'm going to turn him into a smudgy mess on my wall.'_

_Mai froze. Could he crush Naru? Would he? She didn't want to take the chance._

'_That's right. Just stay where you are.' Kennel Boy approached her with long strides—each one carrying him closer than it should. 'Oliver was never very good at listening to his brother—and once again he's made a tactical error. There is a nice warm and vacant body waiting for me just on the other side of this dreamscape. Let us make some use of that tracing gift, Mai.'_

_Mai recoiled and Kennel Boy slammed the counter harder against Naru._

'_You see how this works, Mai?' Kennel Boy said._

'_I won't trace you into reality,' Mai whispered. 'I won't let you have Naru's body.'_

'_But by rights his body is mine.'_

'_Naru did not kill you. You lit the fire. You killed yourself.'_

_Kennel Boy just smiled._

_Naru shoved hard against the counter, but it did not budge. It was a horrible sight—worse than when Naru fought Endo—because in Kennel Boy's dreamscape, he'd been reduced to an ordinary man. Absolutely helpless in his normality. Heaving one last time, Naru panted, 'Just leave, Mai.'_

'_Does the great Oliver Davis wish to repent? I don't think she'll let you,' Kennel Boy snickered. 'She won't leave you willingly. She knows that if she does, there is little chance that she'll ever be able to find you again in the ether. For all her idiocy, she really is rather intelligent.'_

'_I won't trace you.'_

'_You won't have a choice,' he said, suddenly right in front of her and grasping her wrists._

_Mai strained away, heaving all her weight backward. Kennel Boy held her up with his unnatural strength for a long moment before unceremoniously letting go of her wrists. She fell hard onto her backside, and Kennel Boy did not hesitate to clamber on top of her._

'_Now how did we do this before? I remember, I think I had my hand here.' He slammed the heel of his hand against Mai's throat. Choking, she bucked and flailed for the leverage to fling the boy aside, but his grip was tenacious._

_She knew the moment that Kennel Boy started to spin energy. It hummed around her, like the warming of a generator, and his hands turned icy on her throat. She redoubled her attempts to escape, which only caused him to laugh—long, gritty cackles._

_Naru was shouting—though she could not decipher his words. All her focus was on the pain and the hum and the knowledge that any second Kennel Boy would shove steel bullets of energy through her body. Could she let them just pass through? She had to. If she recalled them, if she redirected the energy back through her, she'd trace them into reality._

_And that was what Kennel Boy was counting on._


	33. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

_Mai's pulse thrummed in her ears. Terror gripped her, yanking at her mind like a riptide. Darkness dragged her under. She rallied once, twice, but every time a breaker of spinning energy slammed against her. It made the floor tremble. The ceiling. Great bursts of dust plumed downward. Outside the kitchen, the wind howled like a freight train. Unstoppable. The d__reamscape ceiling broke apart and sections of the __walls crumbled. _

_Kennel Boy levered his body so that his full weight pressed upon Mai's throat. Desperate screams grappled at her chest, but she couldn't pull in a breath to give voice to her terror. Her pain. Her futile frustration. Her eyes seemed to rupture with tears._

'_Etienne Phillipe.'_

'_Not now,' Kennel Boy bellowed above the roar of the wind. His spinning energy pulsed as though it were a gun primed._

_The howling of raging energy ceased._ '_You are breaking contract.' The surprised voice was soft but in the sudden silence it shredded at Mai's body. __Though she was nearly blinded and her mind stuttered, she recognised the new speaker by the further chill that set into her bones. It was The Academic._

'_I've changed my mind,' Kennel Boy growled. 'I don't need to be your student, Murdagean.'_

'_But you already are.'_

_Spittle exploded onto Mai's face. 'Shut up! You've taught me nothing. You've left me to waste in the ether.'_

'_I had thought you merely overeager. Someone to challenge Endo—not someone to steal his research. And certainly not someone to use his research to break contract.' Murdagean The Academic sighed. 'You are the worst sort of student. The kind by which I will not abide.'_

_Kennel Boy lifted off of Mai. He clutched to her throat but no longer could keep a solid grip._

_Mai's first dozen breaths caught in her throat and never worked into her lungs—but on the thirteenth attempt, Mai's lungs ballooned with oxygen. By her twentieth breath, she could focus her gaze through her tears and vertigo._

_The Academic held a still and pale Kennel Boy aloft like a naughty toddler._

'_Please, Murdagean,' Kennel Boy whimpered, suddenly very much an eight-year-old child. 'I only wanted to create visions again. Like I did when I was living. You don't know how awful it has been. To be powerless. To be dependent on other people's dreams. That's the only reason I borrowed Endo's research. Truly. I needed it. I need it. I need revenge and freedom from the ether.'_

'_And that was what the contract would have granted you, had you honoured it.'_

_'I only borrowed Endo's research. Borrowed,' he whimpered. _'_I borrowed it to honour the contract.'_

'_By forcing young Taniyama Mai to abandon Oliver Davis's soul to the ether—and most likely by killing Miss Taniyama during the tracing process? You were breaking contract.'_

_Kennel Boy growled and kicked out. 'Fuck the contract.'_

'_That's what I thought. Such a shame. Such potential. Such beautifully raw _emotion._ I had high hopes for our working relationship. Together we could have created art fit for the Bael's palace walls.' The Academic's face lit with anticipation, but his expression quickly fell flat as he stared down at Kennel Boy. 'But I see you lack vision. You lack refinement and resilience. Moreover you lack respect and honour. And now you need to pay the fee for breaking contract.'_

'_But I didn't. You stopped me.'_

'_You obviously did not read the fine print, boy. The moment you _decided_ to act against our agreement, the contract was broken.'_

'_That's not fair.'_

'_Welcome to the afterlife.' The Academic placed Kennel Boy on his feet and then rapped him once atop the head. 'Sluagh.'_

_Kennel Boy dissolved. His clothing crumpled into a nest on the floor, in the middle of which sat a small black bird. _

_The Academic reached down and grasped the bird without ceremony, one hand subduing its wings and the other around its neck. It looked for a moment like The Academic would rend the animal in two, but instead he held it up for contemplation. 'Such a shame. Such potential. And now he doesn't even remember his name. Just another sluagh. Just another mindless spy.'_

_The Academic loosened his grip, and the bird took flight—darting every which way in confusion before finding the crumbled wall and fleeing outside._

'_Are you injured?' The Academic reached a hand toward Mai, but she shrunk back. 'There's no need to be afraid, Taniyama Mai. We are old friends, are we not?'_

_Mai curled her legs beneath her and stood without assistance. She clutched a counter to keep her balance. The Academic had stopped Kennel Boy—had turned him into a bird—and the sheer ease of his actions made her edge further away. She'd always found him odd. Her gut always recoiled in his presence. And now she knew why._

_Murdagean The Academic was far more dangerous than little Etienne Phillipe._

'_Mai.'_

_She flinched at the sound and glanced across the room to where Naru had nearly freed himself from the countertop. She'd almost forgot he was there during the last few minutes._

_Keeping her eyes trained on The Academic, Mai rounded the counters and stumbled over broken tiles toward Naru._

'_Stop,' The Academic said, and the floor welded to Mai's feet. 'I think we should consider our situation before you try to leave. You see, I have just done you a favour.'_

'_You did that of your own avail,' Naru growled. 'We have no debt with you, demon.'_

_Mai stared at Naru. _Demon? _She swung her gaze back to The Academic. How had she not realised it before? How had she not comprehended the raw energy that radiated from The Academic?_

_Murdagean ignored Naru. 'Taniyama Mai, I'm sure you feel grateful to me.'_

'_Don't say anything, Mai,' Naru warned, quickening his efforts to free himself._

'_And as we've discussed before, I see such wonderful potential in you. You have such a beautiful understanding of humanity. Such grief. Such love. You would make a great artist.'_

'_I won't kill people,' Mai said._

'_Shut up, Mai,' Naru said._

'_You don't need to. You have enough power and emotion pulsating through you right now—you could create masterpieces so moving that the Princes of Hell would offer you anything. You would be valued. Loved.' Murdagean smiled like an understanding parent. 'That's all you want, isn't it? You want to be valued and loved. I can give that to you, Taniyama Mai.'_

'_She doesn't need you to have those things,' Naru said._

'_Let's be honest, Taniyama Mai. What is left for you on the earthly plane? Your family is gone. You are alone. Those whom you count as friends—you know what they actually think of you. To them, you are trouble. You are dangerous. I will never think of you that way—how could you be trouble or dangerous when it is within my power to keep you safe? Safe. Valued. Loved.'_

'_She does not want to leave with you,' Naru said._

_Mai glanced at Naru and nodded. 'I would never abandon Naru to the ether.'_

'_I can send him back to his body now,' Murdagean said, lifting a hand._

'_No!' Mai and Naru shouted together._

_Mai wrenched at her legs, trying to unstick her feet from the floor. 'Naru is my responsibility,' she said. 'I traced him here. I'll trace him back.'_

'_If that pleases you, I'll work that into our contract.'_

'_I'm not making a contract with you,' Mai said, straining against the invisible restrains._

'_Do you not wish to be the recipient of clemency and honesty? To be trusted with the disclosure of time's greatest secrets? Do you wish to be safe and valued and loved?'_

'_Yes! I mean, no. I mean—'_

'_Then it is settled.' Murdagean pulled a large piece of parchment from his inside jacket pocket. 'I'll just need a signature.'_

_The iron clamping down her feet loosened, and Mai stumbled forward against the counter._

_Murdagean held out a fountain pen. It hovered a mere centimetre out of her grasp._

_A hand gripped her wrist, staying her hand, as the scent of Earl Grey washed over her. 'Why can't you just be quiet,' Naru growled in her ear. An arm wrapped around her, pressing her back hard against his front._

'_You are knowingly twisting her words,' Naru said to Murdagean._

'_I don't believe I am, Oliver Davis. Taniyama Mai knows that the qualities she desires most in her life are not available to her on the earthly plane.'_

'_Trace us home,' Naru whispered._

_Mai clenched her eyes and tried her best to focus._

'_What is left for you there, Taniyama Mai? Only grief. You will be crushed beneath loneliness.'_

_Mai's heart trembled like a tiny, terrified animal trapped in her chest._

'_You've got to trace us now,' Naru said harshly._

_Tears welled in her eyes and tumbled down her face._

'_She can't. Just sign the contract, Mai. I'll send him back for you.' The pen slipped into her hand unbidden._

'_Don't do this,' Naru whispered._

'_I can't trace you.'_

'_You can.'_

'_I can't.'_

'_Then leave me and go.'_

'_No.'_

'_Even with all his faults Oliver Davis is still worth far more than you. His gifts and intelligence save lives. He keeps people safe. His work champions the development of the psychic research community. To rob the world of Oliver Davis' existence would be a crime.' Murdagean nudged the contract closer to Mai. 'Let me trace him back to the earthly plane. Let me trace him back to where he needs to be. All you must do is sign the contract, Taniyama Mai.'_

_Mai's hand trembled._

_Naru slid his hand up from Mai's wrist to cover her hand. 'I'll sign,' he said, taking the pen. 'You send Mai home.'_

_Fires flared deep within Murdagean's eyes._

'_Potentissimi donum donum vitae,' Mai whispered and grabbed Naru's hand with both of her own. 'This is what you want. Sacrifice. Neither of us will take this contract.'_

'_But you both already have committed. Verbal and mental contracts.'_

_Invisible pens scratched words onto the contract. In Kanji and in English. _

谷山 麻衣

Oliver Davis

_Mai's vision wavered as she stared down at their names through her tears. This was her fault. This was…._

_Gene sauntered through the doorway. Though his hands were casually shoved deep in his trouser pockets, he stopped with his legs braced far apart—like a shinobi warrior prepared to spring into action. Mai's pulse stuttered with relief and fear. _How had Gene managed to access the dreamscape? And why now?

'_Excellent work, Davis.' A broad man in a dark blue uniform stood in the doorway. 'Your methods may have been unorthodox, but you have succeeded in the end.' _

_The man paused and frowned at Mai and Naru before speaking to Murdagean. 'Aedmurdagean-an-Duhlainn, Baron of Hell, you are under arrest.'_

_A curious and bemused smile lifted Murdagean's face. 'Agent Koga, there must be some kind of mistake,' he said in a mild and pleasant tone—the tone pricked Mai's skin like the legs of two dozen spindly spiders._

_The tone must have rankled Agent Koga's hackles too because the broad man widened his stance and pushed back his jacket to show a shoulder holster. _A ghost with a gun_? _And how was a gun supposed to stop a demon?_ Gene had said that the afterlife was extremely complex but…_

'_There's no mistake,' Agent Koga said, pulling a small notebook from his jacket pocket. 'You are being charged with—'_

'_Are you sure you want to do this, Koga? Are you sure _you can?_' Murdagean warned, his voice a low whisper. 'It will take more than the recitation of one feeble infraction to hold me.'_

'_With the help of Davis here, the Agency has more than enough evidence—to detain _and _charge you. In fact the undercover work Mr. Davis has done for us has earned him placement at the Agency—'_

_Murdagean's gaze sparked off Mai's before setting on Gene. 'You must be _very_ proud of yourself,' he murmured. 'Look me up, Eugene Davis, when you get tired of hocking your soul for the Agency. You'll find my line of work far more rewarding.'_

'_That's enough, Murdagean,' Agent Koga seethed before he began to read from his notebook. Though his words were clinical, they acted like an ancient incantation. 'You are under arrest for two accounts of teaching the demon arts to the living—'_

_Murdagean tried to step back, but his feet seemed to be leaden._

_Agent Koga continued to read, and with every infraction of the law, Murdagean lost further mobility. '… one account of contract brokering, one account of contract negligence, and two accounts of contract falsification.' Like a burnt out charm, Mai and Naru's contract withered and cracked. 'And numerous accounts of leaving demon artefacts at the disposal of the living—including one that caused a riot at….' Agent Koga flipped through a several pages in the notebook._

_Gene cleared his throat. 'Watanabe Gallery, sir.'_

_Murdagean chuckled. 'That wasn't one of my paintings.'_

'_It was a multimedia piece produced by your apprentice and soul-collector, Father Endo,' Gene bit out._

_Agent Koga held up a hand for silence. 'Which puts you in clear violation of the law as no artisan of Hell shall gift artefacts, tools or techniques with the intent of use on the earthly plane. In your relations with one _Etienne Phillipe_….' Agent Koga continued to speak, but a wave of energy thrummed through Mai's mind and garbled the exact words. She did however get the distinct impression that Agent Koga was detailing the terms of Murdagean's detention, trial, and the penalties._

_After the initial struggle, Murdagean took the news with the casualness of a man that knew the large charges would not stick and that the penalties would be minor at best._

_Mai turned to Naru to gage his opinion, but he was starting at this twin—obviously paying no attention to the conversation._

_Gene stood beside Agent Koga with an expression of vast satisfaction narrowing his eyes and quirking his lips. His gaze never turned from Murdagean. It was like Mai and Naru weren't even in the room. 'I knew you couldn't resist going after someone as powerful and unique as Mai,' he said._

_Frost seemed to crystallise across her skin. Drawing in a shaking breath, the last few months suddenly made sense. Gene was not her guardian. His return to the earthly plane had _nothing_ to do with Mai. The signs had been there all along. He'd never lied to her, but in true Davis twin-style, he'd neglected to divulge any of the important facts. He'd let her assume the best of him while he selfishly went about his business. _Everything made sense_. Gene had unexpectedly shown up but never stated his purpose to her—because he was on a mission to find proof that a demon was breaking some kind of afterlife code. That was his job. His job was not to look out for Mai. Not to act as her guardian. He had never once claimed to be her guardian. That was what she'd decided to call him. They spent so many days wandering through art galleries—because he was looking for proof that Murdagean was teaching the living how to produce demonic art. While awake, she was a hindrance to him—it was her fault that they had not returned to Watanabe Gallery before the riot and fire. If they had, he could have seized the demonic art. People probably died because she'd been too tired to care about another exhibition. _

_And then there was the way he relentlessly encouraged her to experience her marathon dreams—not because it was a way for her to burn off excess psychic energy, but because every time she wandered aimlessly through her marathon dreams, she was tempting Murdagean. The dreamscape was a dangerous place to wander. Every person she'd met there had told her so, in one-way or another, but Gene had insisted. Insisted and insisted—because he knew that his demon-prey was close and Mai was the most perfect, stupid, innocent, trusting and tempting bait that he could offer. Now she understood why he'd wanted to keep Naru away—it was because Naru would never allow her to continuously dive deeper into the dreamscape. Naru understood the dangers. Naru would have gotten in Gene's way. It had nothing to do with brotherly love, or even to do with goodwill towards friends—plain and simple, Mai was nothing but bait being used by both Kennel Boy and Gene. _

_Her reoccurring dream of waking to an abandoned flat had been a premonition of this moment. Of this feeling._

_Betrayal._

_Mai's knees gave out, and she slid to the floor._

'_Mai.' Naru knelt down and gripped her shoulders._

_Lifting a trembling hand, she covered her eyes and began to rock back and forth. She must surely be the most stupid girl ever to exist. The clues were all there. She'd known from the very beginning that something was not right. She'd welcomed Gene into her life. Into her home. She'd treated him like her dearest friend._

'_Mai?'_

_Swallowing hard she looked over Naru's shoulder. Gene stood above them with a hesitant smile._

'_Don't.' She sucked furiously through her teeth, and she had to wet her lips before her jaw unclenched enough to get any more words out. 'Don't speak to me. Don't come near me. _Who are you?_ No. I don't even want to know. You… you….' Mai's neck strained with the force of her words._

_Naru grasped her chin and forced her to only look at him. 'Listen to me, Mai—'_

'_I can't,' she whispered harshly, worming her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. 'I can't stay and listen to you two talk. I can't listen to him anymore. He said… he said he was my friend. He said I could trust him.'_

'_Then take us home,' Naru said, pulling her close. 'Just take us home.'_

'_I can't. I can't. I can't.' She whispered it like a mantra, tears pouring down her face._

'_Fine,' Naru said, pressing his forehead to Mai's. Energy pulsed and lurched from Naru into Mai, forcing her to spin the power feeding her riotous emotions and then release it back to him. _

_He pulled her flush against his body and perpetuated the cycle of spinning until both of their breathing grew ragged with the effort. 'Take us home, Mai,' he whispered harshly, and angling his head to the side, he pressed his mouth firmly to hers._


	34. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

'You turned down the contract?' Bou-san shook his head with exasperation. 'He offered you a full-time position with a great salary and a huge benefits package—and you turned Naru down?'

Mai fidgeted with the packets of sugars and sweeteners that the waitress had heaped upon their coffee shop table. It was her first official day discharged from the hospital, and Ayako and Bou-san had insisted they take her out for lunch.

Forcing a breezy tone into her voice, Mai said with a smile, 'I'm just not ready to jump right into another case. If you hadn't noticed, I've had more than my fair share of ghostly going-ons over the past few months.'

'But _Naru_,' Ayako persisted, her voice echoing Bou-san's bafflement. 'He's reopening SPR _for you_.'

Mai hiccupped a doubtful laugh, and her injured ribs ached with the movement. 'He is reopening SPR because that is what he loves to do. And he's working in Japan because it allows him freedoms and a sense of anonymity that he does not enjoy in England.'

Ayako's teacup clattered against her saucer. 'That boy is in love with you.'

'Don't be silly,' Mai said, flushing terribly and played with her new mobile phone—a gift from John.

'I have to agree with the old lady this time,' Bou-san said, earning himself a smack from Ayako. 'You don't know what he was like when he realised you were missing last month.'

'I don't want to talk about this anymore.'

'Mai—'

'I don't want to see him. Not right now. Not yet. It is just too much.'

'Because he looks like Gene?' Ayako asked, taking Mai's hand in hers.

'No!' Mai said, pulling away. 'Naru doesn't look anything like that… that….'

'Bastard?' Bou-san supplied.

'That person,' Mai said evenly, fixing her full attention back on the pile of sweeteners. It had been rather rude of the waitress to just dump the packets in the middle of the table—like she were leaving a tiny pile of trash for them to pick through.

'You can't keep avoiding the subject,' Bou-san said. 'You need to talk about it. And if you don't feel comfortable speaking to us about it, we can make an appointment for you to see a professional.'

'I'm not talking to a shrink. Can you image? I'd mention my psychic gifts and they'd cart me away to a loony bin.'

'What about talking to Luella Davis? Her PhD is in psychology.'

Naru's parents plus Madoka had arrived in Japan on the day after they had closed the case.

'I don't think it is appropriate to say the kind of things I want to say about… that person… to his mother.' Plus Mai doubted Luella Davis knew anything about Pitt's death. Mai wasn't about to tell the woman that her son had killed someone and lied about it for nearly his entire life. Naru hadn't even been completely honest with Lin when he'd asked the onmyouji to make the hitogata. No, the story of Pitt would forever remain the secret that bound Naru, Mai, Gene and Etienne Phillipe. 'I'll be fine. I just need a break.'

Bou-san and Ayako exchanged meaningful glances, which could only mean that they were about to tackle another touchy subject.

'Have you considered my offer regarding the flat?' Ayako asked.

A few days before Ayako had suggested that Mai might like to move into Ayako's flat in central Tokyo. Flattered, but also aware that this was an offer born of guilt and misplaced duty, Mai had begged for time. Apparently her time was now up.

'I have thought about it,' Mai said cautiously. 'I've thought a lot about it, but….' Her mouth went dry. The truth was, she honestly wanted to jump at any chance to not have to go back to her own flat and face memories of… that person. But she couldn't. She just couldn't do that to Ayako.

'You will be more of a burden to me if I have to drag my butt out to suburbia five times a week to check on you,' Ayako warned.

Mai chewed on her lip. 'I….'

'Or you could come live with me?' Bou-san offered, giving her a wink.

'Aren't you guys going to move in together soon?' Mai asked.

'No,' Ayako said, and Bou-san laughed nervously.

'I thought that's what you said, Bou-san? You know, about making things official between you and Ayako.'

Bou-san flushed and put his hand over Mai's mouth. It was a friendly gesture, but she flinched nonetheless.

Both Ayako and Bou-san noticed, and the monk eased away from her with great care not to touch her.

Mai lifted her teacup to her mouth, and before taking a sip, she murmured, 'Sorry.'

'Seriously, I'd feel much better if you weren't in that flat,' Bou-san said, again exchanging a look with the miko. 'SPR has just taken a new case, and it is located in the house attached to your flat. The owner has just returned from abroad, and he claims to have a rather loud and angry ghost in residence.'

'The gaki,' Mai whispered, cringing.

'What?' Ayako and Bou-san asked.

'Um… I might know… I don't know anything about how the ghost actually came to be… but I might know how it got to be _in that house_.'

Ayako took out her wallet and dropped some cash on the table. 'You know what this means, right, Mai?'

'Well, crap.' Mai gripped her teacup, and it juddered against the saucer. She'd just turned Naru's job offer down, and she was already going to crawl back to the Shibuya office—but what could she honestly do? If there was a gaki in her neighbour's home, it was most likely the one she'd forced out of her own. Karma was a bitch.

**Eight Months Later**

'Mr. I'm-too-handsome-for-my-own-good is back,' Aoi shouted from the front of the shop.

Mai added one more scoop of cornflower petals to the blended tea and placed the cover back on the large apothecary jar. Taking off her apron, she hung it on the little rack in the doorway between the kitchen and the front counter.

Aoi and Naru glared at each other across the register. At some point during the past months, Aoi'd gone from thinking of Naru as 'Mai's prince' to thinking of him as 'the most annoying customer from that weird office on the second floor'.

With the financial backing of Captain-san—who'd sold his share in Gin Knockers—and the managerial know-how of Aoi, and sheer exuberance of Mignon, the four of them had opened a small teashop on the ground floor of the office building that housed SPR.

Naru, of course, was not satisfied with this, but the rest of the team supported the endeavour. She did, however, participate in the occasional case. Lin and Mai managed to work together silently and civilly, but an awkwardness permeated their relationship—one born of Lin's guilt rather than his prejudices.

When Mai wasn't wrapped up in an SPR case, she still somehow managed to be Naru's tea slave by making tea-deliveries to the SPR office twice, even three times a day depending on her schedule. She tried to be stealthy in her deliveries as to not upset Lin, but Yasuhara never made that easy. He'd taken Mai's former job as Naru's assistant—and he chose to exacerbate the tension between Mai and Lin. In fact the only time Mai felt comfortable in the SPR office or during cases was when Madoka showed up with the baby. One couldn't help but smile at the pretty wee bairn.

But that day it wasn't Lin's awkwardness that had kept Mai from delivering Naru's tea. She'd simply _not had a free moment. _The scowl affixed to Naru's face certainly attested to it. Mai placed a calming hand on Aoi's arm. 'I'll take care of this. Why don't you go on your break?'

'Perhaps we should put mirrors on the front doors, that way every time he tries to come in here, he'll be distracted by his own reflection,' Aoi sneered.

'I hadn't realised my good looks bothered you so much,' Naru said.

Mai pushed Aoi toward the kitchen before pointing at Naru. 'You have been spending too much time with Yasu,' she said, causing Naru's mouth to twitch. Six more months of having Yasuhara as a personal assistant, and Mai hoped Naru would be able to manage a lopsided smile. 'Just go take a seat. I'll bring your tea over.'

He stood watching her for two slow breaths before ambling to the small table at the far back corner of the shop—the one that Mai always kept a _reserved_ sign on, just in case.

Mai watched him walk away with a sad smile. They rarely spoke unless it revolved around tea or a current case. They never talked about Gene, Pitt or the events that had begun almost a year ago. They never talked about how she'd hinted again and again that she still loved him. And they never mentioned the two times that they kissed.

Their relationship was careful, quiet, generally respectful—certainly not soured, but also nothing like it had been before or even during the Kennel Boy case.

Naru pulled out his chair, and Mai turned away to examine the jars of tea before he realised that she'd been watching him with sorrowful, lonely eyes. She reached for the jar of Sencha Earl Grey and hesitated as she had for the past month.

Sencha Earl Grey was failing her. It was failing both of them. It had trapped them in a place of desolation. She had a jar of something new. Something special that she'd blended with Naru in mind. It sat on the middle shelf at the easiest height for her to grab. And yet cold fear ached in her fingers, and the metal bolts and plate in her right forearm seemed to make it impossible to grasp the jar.

Her heart stuttered and her throat clenched tight—like Kennel Boy still had his grubby little hands squeezing the life out of her. It was a familiar feeling—one that she experienced awake as well as in her dreams. Generally her dreams weren't as bad now that she lived with Ayako, who had plastered the flat with charms, but during these waking moments she knew that Kennel Boy was getting what he wanted.

Mai and Naru were separated by a gulf of silence.

Trembling, she forced her hands to grip the new blend. She'd be damned if she let Kennel Boy win after all that he'd put them through. She had to at least try.

The routine of tea preparation steadied her nerves a little, but when it came to delivering the teapot and teacup, she nearly dropped everything. Naru grabbed the teapot from her before it spilled, and the pot clinked indelicately on the table.

'Sorry,' Mai whispered, and the teacup rattled in the saucer.

She reached for the teapot to perform the usual service, but Naru placed a hand on her right forearm. 'Does the rain bother the injury?' he asked.

Mai glanced out the shop windows at the pelting rain. She hadn't even noticed the weather before. 'It's okay,' she said, reaching for the teapot again.

'I'll pour,' he said.

'That's not right,' Mai insisted. A guest simply did not pour his own tea.

'Sit down, Mai.'

She obliged without thinking.

Naru calmly served himself tea. Lifting the cup, he inhaled the scent and frowned. 'This is not your Earl Grey.'

Mai wet her lips. 'It… it's new. I blended it because… I mean, I think you'll like it. It's okay if you don't. I really don't mind.' Her face warmed with humiliation. What had she been thinking? She shot out of her chair and reached to take the cup away from him. 'You know what, never mind. I'll just go make you the regular tea—'

Naru placed his hand on her forearm again, and she froze. He breathed in the scent again before taking a tentative sip. His eyebrow furled and he sipped again. Frowning, he breathed in the scent for a third time.

'I'm sorry,' Mai whispered, and she reached for the cup. 'It tastes bad, right? I'm sorry.'

Naru refused to relinquish the cup. 'I know this flavour. I've tasted it before, but….'

Crouching down slightly, Mai attempted to prise his fingers off the cup. 'You don't have to drink it if you don't like it,' she whispered and tried desperately to keep tears from welling in her eyes.

Naru set the teacup down on the table. 'Look at me, Mai.'

Again she obliged without thinking.

Coiling a hand at her nape, he pressed his mouth to hers—tasting her with unhurried brushes of his tongue, performing a thorough study of her lips.

When he pulled away, he slipped his hand from her neck to her back so that she didn't fall over.

'I… um… I… you….'

Naru lifted his teacup, sniffed and then sipped it, and then nodded. 'I knew I'd tasted that flavour before,' he said, almost to himself as he gazed at her mouth.

He relinquished his hold on her, and she stood on wobbling legs. She didn't know what to say. Naru had kissed her. He'd kissed her _a lot_. Yes, she'd hoped the change in tea would bring about a change in their relationship, but she hadn't expected….

'For future reference,' he said, lifting the teapot to refill his cup, 'I prefer to enjoy my tea in private. Coming down to your shop is disruptive and a waste of time and money.'

Mai started to flinch but then narrowed her eyes. 'You don't pay for your tea.'

'I refer to the money I am losing by not being in my office.' He finished off his beverage and stood. 'I trust you'll try for punctuality next time.'

'You mean in three hours,' Mai muttered.

'Precisely.'

Mai crossed her arms and tried to draw in a calming breath. 'I lose money every time I pause to deliver your tea. You could at least give me a little incentive.'

'I am not a prostitute, Mai.'

'What?'

'I'll see you in three hours.' He tapped on the teapot. 'Bring more of the same,' he said before he sauntered out of the shop without a backward glance.

Mai collapsed into his chair and filled his cup from the teapot, breathing in the scent. Did she really taste like sunflower petals and vanilla? Maybe she should ask him to double check. Mai sipped the tea. He definitely needed to double check.


End file.
